


Of Blacksmiths and Blackberries

by littlebrownshoe (Wolfy_Tales)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - No ring(s) of power, Alternate Universe - Smaug fell when he attacked, Canonical minor character(s) death, Fell Winter, M/M, Rotating POV, Shire shenanigans, Slow Love, Unapologetic fluff warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3227909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfy_Tales/pseuds/littlebrownshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo liked Summer the most out of the seasons because that was when the dwarves visited with their carts and crafts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I adore how there's all those fics about Thorin & Co coming to work at the Shire, so I decided to do one myself. [And then it totally got away from me and had to be cut up into multiple parts – blaurgh. Still, I'm quite happy with it.] Note the age gap between Fíli and Kíli is 16 instead of 5, and Ori is not 50ish years older than them. Their ages in canon needed to be ignored for cuteness. In addition, I believe Frerin is the middle sibling, but I made him the youngest. [Whoopies.] Lastly, each segment is between 300-500 words for consistency. Cheers!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.

 

 

_A story of how Bilbo and Thorin grew up in each other's company._

 

.

Bilbo swung his short legs under the bench as he sat and waited. Beside him Bungo was actually using his time smartly and was smoking his pipe as well as reading a tale. He was reading it aloud for his son, but the little hobbit was too distracted to listen or give heed.

Because today the dwarves were coming in to town!

While Bilbo did not like Summer for its hot, sticky nature that almost made him want to stupidly throw himself in to the river or lake, it was also when there was the most excitement. The dwarves came like clockwork, and while they would leave in three months time without fail, it still gave ample time for Bilbo to study them at the market.

The little hobbit squealed happily and stood on his furry toes when he saw the caravans come over the hill and head towards the market. First they would set up their shops, and relight the forge, before going to set up camp in one of the empty lots.

"Well, it seems that they arrived earlier this morning than usual," Bungo said with a thoughtful puff on his pipe. "Either they're eager to make a profit or to eat all our food and ale."

"Can we go see them?" Bilbo asked in his light, excited voice.

"After second breakfast, and between Elevenses, I suppose. Your mother needs us to get some things at the market anyways."

Bilbo excitedly clutched his hands to his chest.

"And if you behave well, I'll allow you to pick one of those wooden toys out, hm? From that dwarf with the funny hat?"

"His name is Bofur, Father!" Bilbo whined pointedly.

"Of course it is," Bungo said with an indulgent smile and pat on his son's head.

.

There were so many things to always see at the market despite the season (well, except the main weeks of Winter when the snow piled up too much), but today Bilbo was not interested in sights familiar to Hobbiton. He was interested in those dwarves with full beards and beautifully crafted clothes.

He fidgeted uncomfortably as his father went about getting what Belladonna asked for. While the fauntling was anything but annoyed with how many stops they had to make for his father to talk to people, Bilbo was anything but polite. He talked when addressed, and smiled when they commended him on his nicely combed feet.

Finally they were done doing their usual rounds, and Bilbo gripped his father's elbow in glee. He gently lead them to the new part of the market. Most of the stalls were empty and barren, but Bofur and Bifur were already there with their things.

"Good day, my good hobbits!" Bofur called warmly, mustache swinging with his wide smile.

Bilbo felt himself smiling shyly before he ducked behind Bungo's legs. Even though this was the fourth year he could remember the dwarves, he was still nervous around them. It made sense, as hobbits as a race were brought up to be skittish and wary of outside trouble.

"We were hoping to buy another of your wonderful figure carvings," Bungo said warmly.

The hobbit reached about to pat his son on his head again and this time, as there was company around, Bilbo's round cheeks exploded in a blush.

Bungo pushed the fauntling forward, and he looked way up to the shelves filled with toys. Bilbo looked back at his father and pouted his lower lip out at not being able to see them up close. Understanding this, Bungo sighed before picking up his (heavier than last year's) fauntling to sit at his hip and bring Bilbo closer to the toys.

The child's clear eyes darted through the shelves, and looked over the men riding horses to the dwarves with their axes and swords. There was even a couple elves with bows, and Bilbo wondered if those sold at all.

"That one!" Bilbo finally decided with a cheer.

Bungo lowered his son (with a relieved sigh as his back argued loudly) and picked out the figure. It was a dwarf of course, with a sword in one hand and a hammer in the other. He had golden hair, and a great big grimace on his face.

.

Like any other fauntling, Bilbo had to go into the town hall for lessons three times a week. While the town tried to help with their education, it was mostly what was taught at home that stuck. Whether it be lessons about astronomy or how to perfectly plant beans with squash, a hobbit's intelligence was shaped by their home.

But in Summer there was a brief time of respite from the public lessons. Mostly because everyone was busy in their farms, as most crops was only weeks away from being harvested now. While his parents were not farmers, they still had their impressive garden to attend to, and could not allot every minute of their days to their son. No matter how much they loved him.

So they often gave Bilbo some food in his pack and sent him off for a few hours of adventuring. Bungo of course was against it, but Belladonna just rolled her eyes and shooed Bilbo away. It would do him good to at least explore the Shire, and it was not like he was marching to Mount Doom anytime soon!

Bilbo enjoyed those days of fording little streams and muddying his feet to try and catch frogs. But today with the dwarves still here, he thought he would explore a bit more around the market. There were so many other children running about, no doubt just like Bilbo with free time, and he would not stick out all that much.

But what was surprising and out of place was when he saw dwarven children.

Well, at least one of them seemed just his age, while the other two seemed older and younger. Bilbo's large eyes blinked, and he continued staring from his hidden position behind a barrel of potatoes, until one of them finally locked eyes with him.

The dwarf seemed like a hobbit boy, but he had a very round and prettier face. He had braids in his odd hairstyle, and only a slight scruff around his cheeks. He had a book in his lap, and Bilbo wished he could read ruins to see what it said.

The boy poked the older, blonde one in the ribs and pointed quite rudely, and Bilbo found himself with two pairs of eyes locked on him.

.

Ori was all too happy that he had finally been allowed to come on the caravan to the Shire.

His older brother Dori of course had fussed, but Nori said it was important that he could come along this time as well instead of getting 'stuck at home with the baby brother.' Ori had felt close to tears at hearing that, and of course that made Dori mad like a kicked cat. But Nori had explained there was so much more to see in Hobbiton than at the boring Blue Mountains.

And Ori was nearly fifty, so he could be allowed to come. Of course it helped that Fíli and Kíli would be coming along, and what with Kíli being younger than even him, Dori finally relented.

There was so much to sketch and write about in his journal. How the hobbits were round and soft looking in contrast to the dwarves, and they had such lovely colors in their clothes. And they had beautiful wools and yarns that made Ori truly excited about Dori teaching him how to knit.

Ori just wished that he could go and talk to them, but Dori was so protective, and Fíli and Kíli were always causing trouble and scaring away the hobbits.

So when Ori saw one of the little children watching him, he saw a golden opportunity to make a new friend. Because while the brothers were fine, they were always getting in trouble and dragging little Ori into it as well.

So the little dwarf told Fíli before getting up and walking to the little hobbit. The poor thing seemed like a cornered rabbit as Ori approached, and the dwarf hoped he would not scream like one. And the lad's fear was silly really, as Ori was barely taller than him.

"Hello," Ori said with a wide grin, showing off how he was missing three teeth at the moment.

"Hullo," the little hobbit replied shyly, a smile slowly coming to cover his face as well.

.

"Mum! Mum! MUM! I made a  _friend_!"

Belladonna turned away from making her prized pumpkin muffins to see her son sprint into her skirts with such force she was knocked against the counter. Once she got her breath back from a fauntling running headlong into her legs, Belladonna retracted her little son from her floury apron.

"Bilbo my love, you're already friends with everyone," Bella said with affection as she rubbed the flour off of his little face.

"I made a dwarf friend!" Bilbo said, eyes impossibly large and glittering with happiness it made Belladonna nearly sigh in glee. "His name is Ori, and he's here with his brothers, and there was also Fíli and Kíli, but Ori said they were bad so not to get caught up with their games. And we talked for a long time, and he had the most amazing accent! And he's as old as Father!"

Belladonna laughed at how Bilbo was talking a mile a minute, and nodded along accordingly.

"I asked if he could come over for tea time, but he said he would have to ask his brothers, and that you would have to come down to the market to see them. I would ask Father, but he's busy in the garden, isn't he?"

"I'm also busy here in the kitchen," the hobbit lass said with a raised eyebrow. "This wouldn't be about how I'll say yes while your father would say no, is it?"

Bilbo looked down and fidgeted in place, refusing to look up in guilt.

"Because if that's the reason, you're a very wise fauntling indeed!" Belladonna cheered proudly. "Now let me just get my apron off and then  _we'll_  be off."

Belladonna knew this would probably make Bungo unreasonable at supper, but it was worth it to see how Bilbo literally jumped off his feet in pure joy.

.

Bilbo loved going to see Ori. Some days he helped the dwarf with his Westron, and other days they simply wandered about the market. Other days Dori allowed them to go explore into the woods with Nori, or Bofur (sometimes both), supervising from a shady tree nearby.

Some days Fíli and Kíli would trail along, but Bilbo was still a little hesitant about them. They seemed so close that it was almost an intrusion on their sibling bond to try and fit himself in with them. And Fíli already had such an impressive beard and mustache that he looked more like an adult dwarf than a child. Thankfully Kíli still had a face as smooth as Bilbo's.

Bilbo enjoyed it most when he and Ori drew together. They each had their own sketchbooks, and they took turns alternating drawing and writing in each others. Ori was always interested in doing portraits while Bilbo favored to draw food and plants.

Even his father had to admit that his dwarven friend had a great eye for contrast, but Bungo still said that Bilbo was a better artist. The fauntling did not care about who was better, as it was the action of drawing with someone that was fun.

Some of his other relatives sniffed their button noses up at Bilbo's odd friendship. They thought it was odd for a hobbit and dwarf to be acquaintances, much less good friends. So while Bilbo had gained a new friend in Ori, he lost many more from hobbits and family.

He cried about it to Belladonna, but she just shushed him and said that all his Took cousins were jealous at least of his bravery to befriend a dwarf. That indeed made Bilbo feel better.

Bilbo traded sweets and baked goods for pens and scarves with Ori as well. They both laughed when Dori presented Bilbo with a matching red shawl like the one Ori favored so much.

.

Ori hummed as he stared at the drawing Bilbo had left in his sketchbook for the day. It was clovers from the field they had seen today, and the way Bilbo used yellow so liberally to color the bees made Ori giggle. He himself favored just to use ink, but Bilbo always had wax crayons in his pockets.

"Is that from your hobbit friend?"

Ori closed his sketchbook and turned in a whirl to see Fíli and Kíli looking down at him with inquisitive eyes.

"Yes. And you know his name is Bilbo," Ori snapped back defensively.

The blonde brother hummed lightly before making a grab for the sketchbook. But Ori turned so he could not, only to turn directly by Kíli for the young dwarf to grab the sketchbook.

"Hah! He draws only frilly things," Fíli snorted as he flipped through the pages roughly.

Ori felt close to tears. His sketchbook was his most dear thing in his life, and he did not want the other dwarves to damage it with their dirty fingers and callous actions.

"Give it back!" Ori screeched loudly.

Fíli and Kíli blinked owlishly at Ori. The dwarf barely rose his voice above a slight hum, so the fact that the dwarf had practically screamed in their faces had the brothers backtracking.

"What's going on?"

Ori turned to the deep voice and squeaked when he saw Thorin come out of the forge. His jet-back hair was pulled back, but it did not make him look any less tired or rumpled. Behind him was Dwalin with his impressive tattoos, looking just as bored and dirty.

"Nothing!" Kíli and Fíli said in unison, the later quickly hiding the sketchbook behind his back.

Thorin studied his sweetly smiling nephews before turning to look at Ori, who still had some tears in his eyes. Ori knew it was past the time for him to stop crying at every little thing, but this was important.

"Stop bothering Ori," Thorin ordered as he turned back to Fíli and Kíli.

"Sorry, Uncle," they again chanted together, this time slowly and with their heads hung.

The brothers trotted over to Ori and gave back the sketchbook before darting away to wreck havoc to some other dwarf or hobbit.

"What was that about?" Dwalin grumbled.

"They made fun of me over Bilbo."

Dwalin nodded accordingly, but Thorin just continued looking confused and annoyed.

"He's my hobbit friend. He's very nice and I like him a lot," Ori mumbled in explanation to their leader.

Thorin just snorted before turning back into the forge with Dwalin following him along. Ori watched them go for a moment before deciding he would go walk up the hill for lunch at Bag End.

.

While Belladonna was so very happy Bilbo had made such a fast friendship with Ori, she knew it would only end in heartbreak. A momentary one of course, as the dwarves came around ever Summer, but heartbreak none-the-less.

"I'm going to really miss you," Bilbo said, trying to be brave and hold back his tears.

Ori was not so fortuitous, as there was already hot tears getting lost in the fuzz on his chin and cheeks.

"I'll borrow Fíli's raven and send you letters," Ori promised.

Bilbo nodded, and his fingers tensed into tiny fists at his sides. Sighing at the silliness of this all (it was only for half a year,  _goodness_ ) Belladonna pushed Bilbo forward gently. Her son took the queue immediately and grabbed hold of Ori in a tight hug. The dwarf was some good inches taller than Bilbo, and probably would always be, but they made a fine pair indeed.

"Ori," a dwarf that Belladonna recognized as Dori called from their cart.

The ponies were all loaded up, and it seemed everyone was waiting on the parting of the children. Just as she had pushed forward Bilbo for a parting hug, Belladonna put a gentle hand on Bilbo's shoulder and pulled him away.

Immediately he lifted his arms after letting go of Ori, and Belladonna sighed before lifting up her fauntling so he could wrap his little arms around her neck.

She gave a wave and smile to Dori and Nori, which the former returned warmly and the other just nodded in return. The hobbit stepped back with her child so the carts would have no fear of hitting them as they went down to the main road. Still Bilbo did not retract his face from her neck.

At the end of the line there was a dark haired dwarf who eyed her with bright blue eyes. They narrowed at her, and Belladonna politely bowed shallowly for the dwarf. She thought this was probably the blacksmith that seemed to never come out of his forge to mingle with the hobbits like nearly all the other twelve dwarfs. His face seemed remotely familiar from the years he had been coming.

The dwarf did not return the bow, but his stiff face loosened for a moment before turning back to guiding his donkeys and cart down the road.

"Bye Mister Boggins!"

Belladonna laughed as the youngest dwarf waved enthusiastically after them, dark hair getting further tangled in the wind as he sat at the front of the cart with his blonde brother. They contrasted quite finely with the stoic blacksmith between them.

This finally had Bilbo looking up and about with a running nose and red eyes. At the sight of seeing such a smiling face, her son finally smiled as well.

"Farewell Kíli, and Fíli!" Bilbo cried loudly, making Belladonna wince at the yell in her ear.

The mother and son watched the carts until they were gone, and little Bilbo again gave a small whimper of sadness.

"Come child," Belladonna chided gently. "It is not forever. Now let's go make those blueberry scones."

As usual, the idea of buttery pastries lifter her son's spirits.

.

Winter was boring, and while the flowers were nice in Spring, Bilbo anxiously waited for Summer to come along so his good friend Ori could come back.

Just like the youth had promised, Bilbo had woken one day to have a raven perched on his windowsill. Bungo thought it dreadful and would not come near it, but Belladonna simply fed the bird sausages while Bilbo read the letter and then composed a response.

This happened a few times, and Bilbo made sure to remind himself to thank Fíli when he saw the dwarf for letting Ori and him use his raven.

Bilbo was excited to see Ori and show off how he had grown a good two inches. That, and how he had perfected his mum's pumpkin muffin recipe, and had even had the idea to add thick icing to the top to dress them up as even sweeter than before. Belladonna had laughed at it before deciding it was a good edition indeed.

The fauntling waited patiently as he saw the carts get pulled up, and only when they trailed back from their camp ground on foot did Bilbo race down the hill on legs that were just blurs in his haste.

"Ori!" Bilbo cried out when he entered the dwarven market area.

But the only one in sight was the very tall Mister Dwalin, who simply rose an eyebrow at the little hobbit. Bilbo looked up in curiosity, as he had never had a conversation or moment alone with the dwarf with the unique hairstyle.

Dwalin did not say a word, and simply pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. Bilbo edged around his hulking mass to see Ori standing in front of his brother's stall. His fingers were twisting about, and eyes searching outwards.

Bilbo gave a breathless thanks to the older dwarf, which Dwalin just nodded at, before he ran to his best friend belting Ori's name for a second time.

Ori saw him then, and together the two youths laughed as they enveloped each other in a hug.

.

"You must come to the wedding!" Bilbo cheered as he splashed about in the stream.

He saw Bofur was already asleep beside Nori who sharpened his knives, and the hobbit thought their guardians were not doing a very good job at watching them. Not that Bilbo could drown in his stream, and Ori was graceful as he hopped from rocks.

"But it's a hobbit thing," Ori said with a frown. "We just stay away at camp during those things and it's not too bad. Bofur has the best stories to tell, although sometimes Dori glares at him for parts I don't understand."

"You can come as my guest," Bilbo said with his chest puffed out. "And maybe it would be good to bring along Fíli and Kíli as well. It'll be funny!"

Ori was silent still, so the hobbit added: "I'll teach you the dances, and you'll be able to see our odd party customs. Which mostly add up to adults acting funny and fauntlings eating too much cake."

"Cake sounds good," Ori said with a nod.

Bilbo smiled wide before darting to wake up Bofur to say goodbye to them before going to talk to his mum. He was a little surprised that the dwarves had never been invited before.

Belladonna voiced some worry over it before agreeing, as it was a large wedding anyways. The invitations that were sent out were just a formality, as everyone undoubtedly showed up from Hobbiton for any occasion that had ale, good food and dancing.

Still, Belladonna told her son to go see the couple and ask them personally. When Bilbo ran to tell the two Tooks about inviting the dwarves along, they young couple burst into giggles before immediately agreeing. They said it would be a great honor to have the first wedding with dwarven guests, and that Bilbo could of course bring them along.

When Bilbo ran back to the market he was a little out of breath from running about so much. He saw Ori sitting with Fíli and Kíli outside the forge, and it was oddly Kíli who ran off to get Bilbo some water.

"It's all agreed upon! You're all allowed to come!" the fauntling cheered, feeling quite proud of himself for orchestrating the entire thing.

.

Bilbo was wearing his nicest clothes instead of his usual faded trousers, so he was a tad uncomfortable as he sat. But that was not the biggest reason for his fidgeting, as he was still waiting for the dwarves to show up.

He had reserved a row of seats for them, and was suddenly struck with worry that they would not all show up and he had held all these seats in vain. He knew his friends would come, but he was unsure about the older dwarves. Bofur and Nori would come for sure, and Dori would tag after his youngest brother. Balin was kind, so he would come, and probably drag along his brother. But the others?

Yet the fauntling's worries were all for naught as he saw them bustle in wearing their many layers of clothing with glittering belts and boot buckles. The hobbits all stared as they marched in, and Bilbo waved his hands frantically to catch their attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo saw his father sink into his seat more with a miserably sigh and his mum beside him snicker loudly.

The dwarves were oddly patient and silent as they sat about through the wedding, and Bilbo was thankful for their manners. Afterwards when everyone moved to the ale and dance floor, Bilbo pulled aside Ori to teach him dancing. Fíli and Kíli followed along as well, and became partners as Bilbo showed them some of the dance moves.

Soon enough the music began swelling, and some of the other dwarves bravely ventured out to the floor. Mostly they just made fools out of each other, but they quickly caught on to the patterns in the footwork.

Bilbo was so very happy to see everyone dancing, but there was one that was still sitting. He was the blacksmith whose hair was like Fíli's raven in its pretty black that seemed to reflect every other color under the sun.

It really was too bad that he was sitting so stock still and alone, so Bilbo straightened his waistcoat and tried to tame his curls before passing Ori off to Nori and going to the dwarf.

.

Thorin had not wanted to come to this wedding event, celebration,  _thing_  at all. But everyone else had seemed so intent on going that it would be a sad sight to be left alone at camp to brood over a fire, drinking and smoking alone.

Still, Thorin felt uncomfortable with so many merry little faces bouncing about him. He was afraid to step on their bare feet, not to mention accidentally knock one out if he turned around and his elbow connected with one of their hairless faces.

The dwarf jumped in his seat as he felt something tug at his sleeve, and he looked down to see Ori's odd little friend smiling up at him. Thorin furrowed his brow and tried to think of the name that went along with this tiny creature, but it fully escaped him.

"May I have this dance?" the boy asked in his high voice as he offered his hand.

Thorin stared, and looked around to see just who was the culprit for this pathetic joke. But everyone was busy dancing with each other or a hobbit, and were not glancing at him. Even his nephews were too busy twirling each other around on the floor, laughing loudly and making hobbits coo after them.

The stoic dwarf looked back down to see that the child still had his hand offered bravely, although his smile was beginning to wilt like a cut flower.

"Fine," Thorin said with a snap.

The little hobbit brightened immediately and eagerly grabbed onto Thorin's tunic sleeve again before dragging him out to the dance floor.

"It's a free dance, so we'll start with something simple," he said, light curls framing his head in a way that reminded Thorin of Frerin when he was young. "Let's first hold hands and kick out in opposite time. Then we can try some twirls! Those are really fun!"

Thorin sighed before putting his hands in the little hobbits. He had done this to be polite, and to not scare away a simple child, but the dwarf was deeply regretting it now.

.

Ori glanced away from dancing with Dori to a sight that stopped him dead in his tracks. The young dwarf heard his older brother lightly gasp as well before choking on a chuckle.

Because it really was not every day that you saw Thorin dancing with little Bilbo. The hobbit was dancing in circles around the tall dwarf, while Thorin looked both befuddled and mildly amused at the little person ducking around his legs.

"Uncle!" Fíli and Kíli cried in their high voices as they went over to the pair.

Bilbo laughed and welcomed them warmly before the three grabbed each other's hands and began dancing around Thorin. The dwarf now just stood still and sighed, hands on his hips as he watched his nephews and Bilbo dance in a linked circle around him.

"You're not going to join them?" Dori asked as they began moving again to the time of the music.

"Oh no, I don't want to be there with Thorin snaps," Ori said wisely, wondering if he should pull away Bilbo. It was not yet too late, as Thorin was not only looking mildly annoyed at everything around him like usual.

"That's probably best," Dori said with a nod of his silver head.

Even after Ori had been handed off to dance with Nori and Bofur, the later who had brought out his flute and was playing along with the tune, Thorin had not exploded in annoyance and anger. True, he had gone to sit back down, but he did not grimace at Bilbo when the little hobbit came to give him some cake.

Ori felt a slight stab of jealousy when Bilbo was taken away from Fíli and Kíli to dance with them. But the young dwarf let the emotion go, thinking that the more dwarves Bilbo got along with, the better.

.

Bilbo really liked Thorin.

For one, he had a really interesting nose and bright eyes that were fascinating to stare at. The fauntling wondered why Thorin had a beard shorter than most, and in a way that was clearly intentional.

Thorin also looked so mean and grumpy initially, but was actually really nice and accommodating. When Bilbo asked him to dance, the dwarf had only looked like he had sucked on a lemon, and not had to swallow one down whole, when he agreed.

As the days of summer went by, Bilbo decided that he could begin cooking little things for the other dwarves. Now that he was a year older he knew more about baking than he did before, and was more confident about his abilities.

Bombur especially appreciated it, and Bilbo never saw if Thorin ate his sweets or not. He asked Ori about it, and the dwarf said that yes, indeed everyone gathered about when he darted down from Bag End to deliver a basket.

Bilbo liked how long the dwarf's hair was, and how it curled in tighter rings than any hobbit Bilbo had seen. Thorin had large hands that Bilbo learned were rough when he danced with the dwarf, but also very warm.

Most days Bilbo peeked inside the forge to watch Thorin and Dwalin work before scuttling off to find Ori, or Fíli and Kíli. He thought it harmless, as it was only for a moment and Bilbo was not distracting the dwarves from their work.

He asked about Thorin to Fíli and Kíli, who were all too ready to talk about their amazing uncle who was apparently much better than their other one.

"Uncle Frerin is funny, but he's not cool like Uncle Thorin!" Kíli cheered loudly. "And Uncle Thorin is going to start teaching Fíli soon how to work the forges, and teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow!"

That night Bilbo took out the wooden dwarf he had gotten from Bofur years ago. He dipped his quill into black ink and carefully drew over the blond hair to make it black. Once he was done, he put it on his desk and admired his work.

Indeed, it looked like Thorin now, and that made the hobbit giggle in glee.

.

This time saying goodbye to the merry group of dwarves was easier than last year. Maybe because Bilbo had already experienced making it through half the year without seeing his friends.

Still, he had to blink away tears as he gave Ori a fond parting hug first, and then gave one to Fíli and Kíli each. The blonde gave an indulgent grin before ruffling his hair in a fashion Bilbo had seen him do to Kíli many times before.

The brothers hopped onto the cart, and Bilbo turned to the last person to part with. Thorin was fiddling with the reigns on the donkey pulling the cart.

"M-Master Thorin," Bilbo called, and that was as far as he got from his nerves.

Thankfully the dwarf had heard his name getting called, and turned to look down at Bilbo with his eyebrows furrowed. Bilbo had not had many interactions with the dwarf, but Fíli and Kíli always emphasized that he was really soft underneath all the grimaces and clothes.

"I brought you something to take with you," Bilbo said as he lifted up the jar he had kept hidden in his backpack. "Me and Mum went and picked some the other day, and decided to make some jam from our first harvest."

Thorin looked at the jaw in Bilbo's hand as if it was a live snake, and Bilbo felt his shoulders droop in defeat. Maybe it would have been better to simply give it to Fíli and Kíli, and hope that their uncle would be inquisitive enough to ask for some.

Balin, who was riding by on his cart while Dwalin rode on his own pony beside him, cleared his throat loudly as they passed. It jolted Thorin out of his dazing, and the dwarf finally reached down to grab the glass jar. While it was heavy in Bilbo's hands, it seemed small in the dwarf's.

"There was no reason for you to give this to me," Thorin said, and Bilbo took it as his own odd words of gratefulness.

"You being a friend is reason enough," Bilbo said, and then scampered off before he got rude and stared at Thorin longer than necessary.

.

Belladonna blinked at the raven sitting on their mailbox. It was obviously not Fíli's, as that raven was younger and fidgeted about when it had to wait. This raven was large, easily bigger than her head, and stared at her unnervingly with intelligent eyes.

"Mail!" Bilbo cried at her skirts before darting forward to meet the bird without an ounce of worry.

The bird snapped its beak in agreement before it hopped from the mailbox to Bilbo's shoulder. The fauntling giggled, and Belladonna wished she was an artist to draw the sight. Truly, it was not everyday a raven nearly as big as her son sat on his shoulder. She was surprised the lad had not tipped over from the sudden weight gain.

The raven stuck its leg out, and Bilbo gently untied the red thread and patted the bird in thanks. Impatiently, he unwrapped the small package. There was a letter, but also four shiny buttons.

"Oh goodness!" Belladonna found herself exclaiming as she clambered to get closer to Bilbo.

The buttons seemed to be polished brass, and an engraving of an acorn was cut on each one. They were made with obvious craftsmanship, not that Belladonna was unaware of the dwarf's abilities. That broody blacksmith had fixed her old copper pot set, and her favorite kettle at that. Even Bungo could not complain when they fixed his favorite armchair's springs.

Her son handed her the buttons in favor of opening the letter. Belladonna raised the buttons to the sun and watched as they shone. They would match perfectly with Bilbo's new deep green waistcoat indeed.

"It's from Mister Thorin!" Bilbo cheered.

Belladonna frowned, thinking that dwarves never gave anything away without first receiving something. While they were stubborn about initiating gifts, once they were given something in turn they became obsessive about returning the gesture. And often one-upping the original gift-giver.

"Bilbo, what did you give to this dwarf?"

Her son only ducked his curly head down a moment before looking back up at her with big, pleading eyes.

"Just a jar of our blackberry jam," Bilbo admitted.

"Well, I think we got the better end of the deal in this," the hobbit said with a rich laugh. "Maybe if we gave Master Thorin a meal he would offer us new gardening tools!"

.

When Bilbo had first met Ori, he had only been fifteen, and the dwarf had been sixty. Now it had been five years of fun and silliness, and Bilbo was turing twenty and feeling like he was actually growing up to be a respectable hobbit.

Ori now had small braids with his beard, and his hair had more braids as well. He still had a bad haircut (in the hobbit's opinion), but Dori was adamant about being the only one having sharp objects close to his youngest brother's neck. And even then it was just to trim odd bits, as the dwarves barley ever cut their hair.

The two friends stood a good half foot higher from the ground each, although that was lessoned in importance as Fíli still stood tall above them. But he was older than Ori by eight years, so it was understandable that he would be taller, and have broader shoulders and longer braids.

Each Summer was like a dream for Bilbo, even as he was older than just a little fauntling. Now Ori and he explored by themselves without Bofur and Nori tagging along, and they focused past the common tongue into learning elvish. Bilbo was learning it from his parents, and was all too happy to teach Ori whatever he learned.

"It's so good to have you as my dearest friend," Ori sighed as they laid under a large pine one day repeating elvish vocabulary relating to furniture. "My brothers will never let me learn anything besides our culture."

"Hobbits are similar," Bilbo sighed dejectedly. "Did you know my Baggins cousins still hate me for being friends with you and the two terrors? Idiotic really. And they call themselves proper hobbits with solid feet."

Ori was oddly silent, so Bilbo propped himself up on his elbows so he could see the dwarf's face. Ori had always been a tad bad at hiding his emotions.

"It's not your fault, Ori," Bilbo snapped irritably. "I like being your friend, and Fíli and Kíli's. And everyone else in your company to some degree."

"You don't mind?" Ori asked softly.

"Besides your bad manners,  _nope_!"

.

Thorin did not like how quickly the hobbits grew up and out at their waist. It seemed he blinked, and suddenly babes were running about on sure legs, and children were off getting married.

It made sense in a way, as dwarves aged differently from the halflings. A dwarf could easily outlive a hobbit three times over, so it was not a mystery why friendships were not made between the two races often.

But there was something oddly endearing about the friendship the youngest Ri had made with that spunky little fauntling. Except Bilbo was no longer a little kid anymore, although he still was obviously young with his round cheeks and childish glee at everything under the sun.

Thorin had first advised his nephews against talking with others past their company, but of course they would ignore his words and become as close to the hobbit as Ori. At least Bilbo was not a bad influence on them, as the hobbit was the one in danger for becoming thick as thieves with three dwarflings.

The only remotely annoying thing that the little hobbit did was peek in on the forge when he thought Thorin and Dwalin would not notice it. But he never ventured in, which was a good thing as even his rough feet would not do well with sparks and molten metal.

Still, there were times when the dwarf had no idea what to do with Bilbo. Because it seemed he had become the residential hobbit for their troop, and it was bad to offend the child.

"You shouldn't have," Thorin said stiffly as he reached down and took the flower crown.

"They're made of forget-me-nots," Bilbo said, his own clear eyes glimmering.

Thorin tried to smile, but he was sure it came out more as a grimace. At least the hobbit did not hunch his shoulders in fear of defeat at Thorin's helplessness. Still, Thorin was clearly missing something by the emphasis the hobbit put on stating the flowers' name.

"Put it on Uncle!" Kíli cheered. Fíli, on the other side of Bilbo, nodded.

The action caused the daisy crown to bob in time with his golden hair. Kíli himself was gripping the one he had of lilac clovers tightly, as if afraid it would float into the sky if he let go.

Sighing like it was such a huge sacrifice, Thorin put the flowers on his head and hoped to Aule above that Dwalin would not come around the corner.

Of course he did, but it helped that over his intimidating mohawk there was a crown of some vibrant red flowers. It was obvious Ori was the one to blame, as he himself had one of bright yellow.

"The company will find out, but we  _never_  tell Dís," Thorin declared to his best friend.

Dwalin sighed deeply and nodded, and Ori punched the warrior stubbornly in his side for almost making his red crown fall.

.

Ori frowned at the snow that came down in sheets outside. He could barley see an inch outside the window without it turning into a monochrome world of white.

"Do you think Ko will be alright?" Ori asked, turning to Dori.

"I would be more worried about your other brother whose still out there doing Mahal knows what," Dori muttered as he cut potatoes a little too viciously than needed.

Ori wanted to comment not to do that, as Dori had a bad habit of breaking cutting boards of the hardest woods, but the younger dwarf kept his mouth shut. Instead he turned back to stare out the window, and hope that the raven had not gotten stuck in the storm.

There had been a letter from Fíli and Kíli to join to Ori's one to Bilbo. Usually they could send out the raven until nearly the end of the year, but Winter had come on fast and hard this time about. Not that Ori had much to worry about, as while his family might not be the highest in social rankings, Dori's clothes brought in customers from all over. Men and dwarves alike, and their money was all good to buy lots of provisions with.

After two weeks, and no sign of Fíli's Ko, Ori decided that the raven had decided to stay in Bag End to wait out this sudden Winter. The dwarf could not blame the bird at all, as he had trouble just getting out of the house most days to get to his lessons with Master Balin.

Eventually Dori did not allow him to go out, and Ori thought he might go insane from being stuck inside his home for so long. There were only so many things to sketch, and so many books to re-read.

The snow was just beginning to thaw one wonderful morning when Ori saw a familiar blur of black streak past his window. He quickly wrapped himself in all the knit wear Dori made for him before rushing after Ko, following the raven as it went to Fíli and Kíli's.

He arrived just as the brothers came out of their house to welcome the raven. Ori waited with bated breath as Fíli fussed over his raven, before he froze in realization at seeing both of the raven's legs bare.

"There's no return letters!" Kíli cried out despondently.

.

Bungo passed eight days before the snow began to thaw.

They had put his body out in the garden shed, so the smell would not get too bad, and his body would be preserved in the cold. It was morbid to think they were essentially putting him in a cold box like they did in warmer months to preserve meat.

Belladonna remembered Bungo saying when Bag End was done, and her stomach was nearly as big as the smial, that when he died he would very much like to be buried under the tree atop their home.

The hobbit lass had laughed then, as it had been one of the rare moments where her loving husband had showed humor.

They had to wait nearly an entire month, twenty-three days, before the ground was soft enough that a grave could be dug for her passed true love. The Baggins family demanded that he be buried in the family cemetery plot, but Belladonna had snubbed Bungo's family before, so she did it again.

Bungo would not be buried atop their house, but he would at least be buried by the garden. The ceremony of lowering his body in a beautiful pine coffin was small, as many others were busy mourning their own losses.

"We'll plant poppies, and he'll make them grow more beautiful than any others," Belladonna said down to her son as everyone dispersed.

Bilbo's hand in hers remained limp, and Belladonna wanted to tighten her grip but found she did not have the strength.

"Yellow ones," the young hobbit finally voiced. "Those were his favorite."

"Of course, little one," Belladonna said softly.

Bilbo looked up at her then, clear eyes cloudy with sorrow and confusion. He was barely in his mid-twenties, and already he had to deal with the biggest pain life could offer.

Belladonna kneeled, not caring about getting mud on her skirts. Bilbo tucked neatly in her arms, all bones and dull hair. But her son hugged and clung to her like she was the only lifeline that he had. And Belladonna did the same to him, as she was the last thing she had of her deceased husband.

.

Thorin remembered the first Summer, nearly fifty years ago now, when he had ventured into the Shire. He had been alone then, before he could convince more of his family to come along. Once they saw the gold he brought back, they were more inclined to listen to his business proposition.

His first impression was that the place was a well hidden paradise, and as he returned each time, that opinion had never faltered.

Until this year.

The dwarves and men had a rough time dealing with the Winter, but they were accustomed to harsh Winters at the base of tall mountains. They had learned long ago to put away food, and then put away  _more_  food just to be safe. They had stacks of wood, and indoor hobbies to endure the season if it decided to last half a year.

Thorin never thought that the hobbits here were any different, but clearly they were. Even though it was Summer and the sun was loud and bright, they walked around as if in a daze. There were not as many visible crops, and Thorin realized in dread that it was because there were not as many visible hobbits to work them.

Even those that were walking and working had a leanness Thorin had never seen before. Their cheeks were not round and rosy, and their feet for once looked outlandishly large in comparison to their bodies.

"It's like walking into a catacomb," Glóin muttered beside him.

Thorin swallowed and nodded once, wondering if Hobbiton would be the same as these outlier towns and houses.

When they arrived at the market, Thorin could feel the other dwarves literally wilt at seeing the sad scene. There were only a few stalls in contrast to the usual bustle, and there was once again a heavy lacking of hobbits.

"Where is everyone? Did something happen?"

Thorin looked to Bofur, who had stopped a young fauntling running back home with a basket of bread clung tightly to his chest. The child stepped away from the dwarf and frowned.

"The wolves and orcs, of course," he said.

The way the child said it so simply, like it was common knowledge such evils should be in these parts, made Thorin frown bitterly.

.

Ori sprinted up the hill, but Fíli and Kíli easily outran him to pull ahead. It was embarrassing in how Kíli was younger than him, but they were trained by Dwalin and Thorin like they were still princes with a kingdom to inherit.

The brothers made it to the door of Bag End first, and began mercilessly banging on the green door with their fists.

Ori just managed to get to the door when Bilbo opened it, and the young dwarf felt himself involuntarily suck in a deep breath of shock.

Bilbo had always been a handsome kid, with big cheeks and happy curls. His smile was a near constant on his face, and a there was often a hummed tune with half-hearted lyrics on his lips. The hobbit was always the first one to pull Ori out from his own shell to the world around him, although that often lead to them falling down a hill. Yet Bilbo just dusted himself off, and then Ori, before forging them forward.

The hobbit before them did not seem like Ori's best friend. His hair that was usually so shiny was dull, and he was pale like he had not been out in the sun for days. His clothes hung loosely to his body, and the brass buttons with acorns were the only thing that seemed bright and alive, when truly it was just cold metal.

At seeing his friends, something lit up in Bilbo's eyes, and Ori wanted to sob at the sad smile that formed on the hobbit's face.

Kíli was the first one who broke, and with a wail threw himself at Bilbo. Ori tried to grab him back, as Bilbo looked so very fragile, but the hobbit took a thick dwafling head to his chest quite well.

"It's so very good to see you all," Bilbo said as he ran a hand over Kíli's hair. "You're welcome to come in, but you need to be quiet. Mum's sleeping finally, and I don't want to wake her."

Ori stepped inside and while the brothers went to the kitchen, he grabbed onto Bilbo's arm gently to stop him. His best friend turned to him with a smile that looked more like a crack on his face.

"I'm sorry I didn't write back," Bilbo said. "But I caught rats for her to make sure she could make it back."

Ori could not stop the tears from coming up in his eyes, and he realized in dread that Bilbo was tearing up as well.

"I missed you," Ori said brokenly.

The hobbit nodded, and this time his little smile did not seem so painful.

.

It took a long time for Thorin to realize that he had not seen that little hobbit friend of Ori's since they had arrived. It had already been two of the three months since their stay, and Thorin wondered in dread if Bilbo had been one of the casualties. It had always been inevitable the hobbit would die before any of them, but he was but a child.

When he asked Dwalin about it, his best friend stared at him silently before furrowing his brow. Thorin could recognize his 'judging' face from a mile away, and Thorin resisted the urge to hide into himself.

"Bilbo's still alive, yes," Dwalin finally spoke, "Although Ori says that he's not the same as he was before."

Thorin frowned, and thought that must be true. The little fauntling had not been around this entire time, when usually he was always peeking into the forge and staring like he was trying to become a blacksmith himself. It was either that, or bothering the others at their stalls.

"Ori and your nephews go up and visit him instead of him coming down to meet us," Dwalin continued to say. "Apparently his mother isn't doing well. His father passed away from the Winter."

Thorin frowned, and dully realized that for the first time he had something in common with the hobbit. Even with his father cut down long ago, it still hurt to think of it. Although Thorin was sure it would not do well to bring it up to try and understand his nephew's dear friend more.

"Poor lad, really," Dwalin said with a huff before going back to his work station.

Thorin turned back to his own work station, where he was putting in a decorative engraving on some silverware some nasty hobbit lass had ordered. He remembered how quickly he made those acorn buttons, and yet how that little hobbit had always worn them. They had been transferred to at least two different waistcoats Thorin had seen.

The dwarf shook his head before getting back to work. It just showed him that nowhere was impervious to strife, and that sometimes people got hurt for no good reason. Thorin had learned that lesson long ago.

.

Bilbo sat by his mother on the edge of her bed with a tray of cold tea and scones. The pastries had been at perfect temperature when he had first brought them: just out of the oven and hot for butter to melt on. Yet Belladonna had finally slipped away into a nap and Bilbo did not have the heart to wake her up.

The young hobbit found himself feeling quite tired himself, so he got up and put the tray on her dresser by her bed. He sat in the chair by her bed he spent hours reading, writing or drawing at.

Bilbo found himself quite tired himself, as he had been busy cleaning the house and doing all the washing up. He also had to attend to the garden, and chase away the rabbits that were insistent about eating all his mother's prized butternut squash. The poppies on his father's grave were indeed beautiful and bright, and Bilbo enjoyed watering them the most.

He did not remember dozing off, but when he woke up, Bilbo found himself under the covers with the familiar scent of his mother surrounding him. When he looked up, the hobbit saw that his mother was watching him with a thoughtful smile on her face.

"Thank you for the treats, Bilbo," Belladonna said softly. "They were delicious. Although I can't wait for the blackberries to come back in season. Poor berries are always so underrated, but that just means more for us to find!"

Bilbo smiled wide before wiggling closer to his Mum. She was not nearly as soft as she had been, as she had yet to gain back any of her weight from last Winter. But she was still his parent, and Bilbo would forever love her no matter how she changed.

"Your friends came by," Belladonna said as she carded a hand through her son's long hair. "They knocked, and I heard them muttering before they left."

"I'll go see them tomorrow," Bilbo said stiffly with his face hidden.

Belladonna sighed before saying: "No you won't. Bilbo, you can go out. You don't need to worry about me so much."

Bilbo was silent, before nodding against his mother's chest. He heard her sigh above him before wrapping an arm around Bilbo and pulling him closer.

"It's going to be alright, my little fauntling."

And Bilbo truly believed his mother in that, because he always knew to trust her above anything else.

.

Belladonna wished that she could be stronger for her son. She remembered how when she was his age she was so busy chasing away boys after her hand to care about her lessons or what she wanted to do with her life.

Not that she had much chance after she came across Bungo Baggins. She had initially been disgusted with the idea of a Took becoming enamored with such a boring Baggins. But he had been resilient, and brave even in her bald disinterest.

And suddenly hate that had lasted for years flipped to love one day, and Belladonna realized in dread that she was quite far gone with the lad. Of course that was when Gandalf had come ambling along, and she had run away with the wizard to see the world and try to find if what she was truly feeling was love.

She was gone for four years, and when she came back, she was of age. Bungo had asked for her hand on bended knee, and she had surprisingly (to both the families) said yes.

"Hello, Bella," Gandalf said softly as he sat at the larger chair Bilbo had brought in for him.

"Hullo, Gandalf," she answered back with a smile as big as she could manage.

The wizard took his hat off slowly, and then reached for her hand. She had always thought Gandalf had such interesting hands, with his bones and veins so visible under the skin. Now she found she had the truly skeletal hand.

"Bilbo has grown," Gandalf said warmly. "He's going to be a very fine hobbit indeed."

"I just wish I could be around to see it," Belladonna said weakly.

Gandalf frowned, and the grip on her hand tightened.

"I have a year, maybe two at the most," Belladonna said. "But you must promise never to let Bilbo hear that. And soon he'll be of age, and no one will be able to chase him out of Bag End. Gandalf, you have to promise me that he'll always have this home."

"I will do that, my dear. Of course I will do that for you," Gandalf promised.

"Good," Belladonna said with a relieved sigh. "Now, tell me what you've been lighting on fire lately."

.

Summer was gone, and Thorin could feel the change in the wind already. But it was not threatening like it had been last year, and Thorin hoped that the hobbits had learned their lesson even if it would be a mild Winter.

They packed up the carts quickly, and Thorin wondered just what had his nephews so down. Usually they were all for going home at this point, desperately missing their mother. Personally, Thorin could deal without dealing with his sister for another season. That and his brother too of course, who in actuality was probably worse. It was never good when they put their blonde heads together to gang up on their older brother.

"Fíli," Thorin said stiffly, hoping that the young dwarf would understand the question in his voice.

The dwarf frowned before looking away. His mustache braids swung with the action, and in that moment he did not look like a dwarf who would be considered an adult his next birthday. Instead he looked tired and young like Kíli tucked into his side.

"Bilbo didn't come to say good-bye is all. He hasn't been out of Bag End since we came."

There was a high-pitched sniffle, and Thorin glanced over to the brother's Ri cart. Ori was situated between the two of them, and both Dori and Nori seemed at a loss of what to do with their youngest brother. Ori himself was not a child anymore, but Thorin did not find anything disgraceful about crying over a close friend.

"He just needs time, like you did when your own father passed," Thorin said gently.

Fíli's blue eyes hardened, and he nodded heavily. Kíli did not remember their father, but Fíli had some years to remember and love his passed parent.

"I'm sure next summer that hobbit will come tripping over his big feet to come see you," Thorin said.

He reached forward and first ran a hand over Kíli's head, and then Fíli's. The blonde grimaced at the action, as it disturbed his braids, but it perked Kíli right up.

 


	2. Part II

 

 

It was now Winter again, and Bilbo did not shake so much from the weather as from worry. Because his mother was not doing very well with the snow. The hobbit thought it must be partially a mental problem: simply remembering the horrors of when it had last been this cold and white all around. What it had taken away from her.

Bilbo wished that Gandalf would come back like last Winter. That he would bring strong, tall Rangers like he had to kill away the wolves and orcs. They had brought food as well to vanquish the threat of living off empty stomachs for far too long.

Yet the hobbit knew that this could not be fixed with magic and strong men. Belladonna was dying because of her broken heart, and Bilbo hoped he was never in a situation where he would be so dependent on another. It made him want to give up on love altogether.

Sometimes when the hobbit did laundry, he bitterly laughed over how foolish he had been before. When he daydreamed of growing up fast so Thorin would look at him like an adult and not just a child to brush away. Dreaming of falling in love and growing old.

Bilbo had been so impatient to grow up, and now that he was, he wished more than anything for those careless Summer days. Of peeking through doors to watch a stranger bang metal in an oddly graceful way.

Yet Summer and all its indulgences were far away. Bilbo now had to deal with things like finances and learning how to manage a house. He had always enjoyed being a single child so he could get spoiled by his parents, but now he wished he had an extra pair of hands to help him along.

Not that it was all so bad. He mostly just sat in bed with his mother, and listened to her labored breathing as he read about adventures and dragons far away.

.

When Dori explained how there would be no caravan to the Shire, Ori had just barely resisted the urge to throw a tantrum. Yet he was seventy-five, so he thought better of the childish action.

He sent out a length letter to Bilbo, and was excited when he got a response right away. Ori had always enjoyed the fanciful way the hobbit's writings curved, but this time the words were anything but soft.

Bilbo explained how it was probably best that Ori and the rest of the company would not be coming. His mother had passed late this Spring, and he was busy getting funeral arrangements done, as well as becoming accustomed to having a house all to himself.

Ori took the letter to Fíli and Kíli, and together the three of them began plotting just how they could sneak away without getting noticed. But of course their plans were split wide open by Nori's snooping, and Dori studied Ori with in his clear eyes even more.

The dwarf was sulking outside his house, furiously smoking Nori's pipe in spite, when a smart pair of boots interrupted Ori's intense glaring at the stone ground.

"Have you been kicked out? Following more after Nori than Dori, I see," a warm, feminine voice said above him.

Ori looked up, and smiled lightly at the beautiful face of Dís. Her golden hair and beard were as intricate in their braids as always, and her blue eyes danced with interest directed to the young scribe.

"We're not going to the Shire this year," Ori announced in a sulk.

"That explains why Fíli and Kíli have been pouting themselves," Dís said thoughtfully. "Truly, are you that depressed by not being allowed to go?"

"There's good food, ale and company. What more would you want?" Ori asked with a chuckle.

The past princess hummed lightly before nodding in parting and going her way. Her skirts danced about her as Ori watched her leave, and the scribe wondered if he had just started some plan in her head. Because Dís was as conniving as she was beautiful.

.

Thorin stared across the table to his blonde siblings and felt dread claw up his throat like a live ferret. Of course Fíli and Kíli cheering at either ends of the table did nothing to help his queasiness.

"Oh stop looking like the world's been set aflame," Dís said with a snort. "We'll just make sure not to leave any perishable food about, and get someone to check in on the house every week or so."

"This is going to be so grand!" Frerin cheered, loose hair swinging as he laughed outlandishly.

"You two are going to scare off all our business," Thorin said with a frown. "And anyways, what can you offer? Dori does clothes, Nori knives, Bofur and Bifur make toys, Bombur salts and spices, Oin and Glóin medicine, Balin old tomes, Dwalin and I work the tiny forge, and the youngsters run about helping wherever its needed. There's no room or need for more dwarves coming along."

"But we're family, brother dear!" Frerin said glibly. "And you can't say no to family!"

Thorin gave a dry look to his brother before turning to Dís, the reasonable one, and saying: "He just wants to warm the beds of all the hobbit lasses."

"My Mahal, Thorin!" Frerin cried in clear offense. "Don't forget the lads as well! How rude!"

Thorin would have truly smacked his head against the table, if he did not know just how hard the oak wood was as the dwarf himself had made the piece of furniture long ago. That, and it would make Fíli and Kíli laugh even louder.

"You know my jewelry is second to none," Dís said with a sniff, "And Frerin can just be the mule for everyone."

"I can also sell bows and arrows," Frerin said with a frown. "There must be some hunters about. Not all of them want to throw knives like that dastardly Ri brother."

"You've thought about this," Thorin realized in dread.

"Young Ori mentioned just how great the Shire was, and I thought I deserved a vacation of some sort. What with nearly being done raising these two idiot brothers."

"Mom, it's not polite to call Uncle Thorin and Frerin immature!" Kíli pipped up cheekily.

Of course Frerin burst into laughter again, and this time Dís joined in with her deep laugh. It made Thorin feel a headache coming on, and wondered if he could just leave them all.

.

Bilbo saw the carts come in single-file line as he sat outside smoking. The hobbit thoughtfully watched them circle and stay at the market for a bit before going off to their campsite yet again.

Getting up, the hobbit stretched his back to crack for a moment before getting up and putting on his best waistcoat. It would not do good to see his friends looking anything but his best.

While he had gotten and written letters to his three close friends often in their absence, it was not the same from seeing their faces and hearing their voices. It had only been two years since seeing them, but Bilbo was giddy to see Ori and the loud brothers.

Bilbo found himself nearly trotting to get to the market, and when he got there he only waved and gave rushed greetings to passing acquaintances. He quickly cut through to the dwarven stalls that were getting set up.

Fíli and Kíli were helping make the stall and holding up thick wooden parts of the frame, but when they saw the hobbit, they dropped the wood and rushed to Bilbo.

"Bilbo!" they cried together in unison as the rushed up to him and unceremoniously lifted him off in a joint hug.

Bilbo should have thought to see Ori first, as he was getting crushed to death. Finally, when he thought he saw his vision blurring, the brothers let him go.

The hobbit tried to clear his head, and thought he was seeing double as there was another pair of dark and light haired figures behind Fíli and Kíli. It took Bilbo a few moments more to realize that it was Thorin, and another dwarf that was an obvious relative, just with blonde hair.

"G-Good afternoon," Bilbo said politely with a shallow bow. "I hope that you had an easy journey here."

"Good Aule, maybe your worries were not unfounded, brother," the mysterious blond dwarf said to Thorin.

Bilbo watched as Thorin sighed deeply before turning away, dramatically throwing his arms up for good measure. The hobbit found himself involuntarily giggling at the odd melodrama from such a simple phrase.

"Frerin, at your service."

Bilbo turned away from watching Thorin go to see the blonde lean down and smile cheekily at the hobbit.

Flushing at the close proximity, Bilbo nodded stiffly and gave his own name before going off to finding Ori.

.

Ori was so very happy to see Bilbo. When they first saw each other, Ori's mind became so jumbled he started exclaiming in elvish that the hobbit only took a moment to blink at before answering back jovially.

They made quite the funny little reunion scene, especially with Dori looking more than a little furious at finding out that his brother spoke a tree-shagging dialect.

Yet Ori had learned just as many things from Nori as Dori, so he diplomatically slipped away with Bilbo before Dori could truly erupt and make Mount Doom feel inadequate.

"It's so good to see you, Ori," Bilbo said warmly, his small hands squeezing the dwarf's arms tightly.

"It's been far too long, yes," the dwarf laughed.

"You seem to have added inches to both your beard and height!" Bilbo said with a laugh.

The two friends went about exploring, visiting their old haunts at streams and large pines they had scrambled about in their youth. When they did not even think that falling and breaking their smart heads open was an option. They had been truly invincible then.

They were walking back to camp when Ori stopped Bilbo with a gentle touch to his shoulder.

"I just want you to know, Bilbo, that if you ever need to talk I'm here," the dwarf said softly. "I only have a few memories of my mother, and I never knew my father. Don't even know who he is really, as my mother took all the differing fathers of her sons to her grave."

Bilbo blinked, clearly surprised at Ori telling him such personal information.

"So we're not the same, truly, but if you need someone to empathize with, we've all lost a parent or loved one. We're always here for you, Bilbo."

Bilbo nodded silently, and Ori gave his grip on the hobbit's shoulder a tight squeeze before letting go. They walked the rest of the way back to camp in comfortable silence.

.

Bilbo enjoyed having the dwarves back, but he was still unsure about the two new additions. He had been introduced to Frerin, but the woman was a total mystery to him.

She was exotically gorgeous with the long whiskers on her cheeks that she braided up to her hair. She was clearly close to everyone, especially with Thorin. The few times Bilbo had seen her, the blonde had her arm linked with his and was pulling him to do some chore or another. Thorin in turn looked exasperated, but always went willing.

It was silly for Bilbo to believe such a handsome dwarf would not have a spouse as aesthetically pleasing as himself. They made a nice couple with their differing hair but similar blue eyes. When they had Fíli and Kíli beside them they looked like a fine family indeed.

Bilbo had been searching for one of his friends when he had his first real conversation with the woman. They had directly crossed paths, and Bilbo could do nothing but stare and blink before remembering his manners and bowing low.

"Oh, none of that now," she said with a deep chuckle. "You must be Bilbo. Fíli and Kíli talk about you constantly. They were more forthright in talking about you than quiet little Ori."

Bilbo nodded mutely, as he did not know what to call this woman.

"I cannot believe my brother got introduced and I did not," the woman snapped irritably before saying pleasantly: "My name is Dís. It's an honor to finally meet you. I've been trying to find you, but you always dart about. You're quite good at disappearing. And I suppose it only has been a couple weeks."

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"You should know that if my idiot brother Frerin gets too much, just tell me. I can easily punt him back to the Blue Mountains to mope by himself," Dís continued to say.

That startled a chuckle out of the hobbit, and the dwarrowdam grinned wickedly like she had just won a game of smarts.

"Although he's not nearly as oppressive as my older brother," Dís said with a roll of her eyes. "Thorin can have an even more stiffling aura about him, and not even in Frerin's harmless flirty way! He just sits and stares."

"Oh!" Bilbo said in shock, jumping a bit unnecessarily at that information.

Dís eyes him carefully at his exclamation before stating harshly: "Thorin never mentioned me."

"He's never mentioned much at all to me before," Bilbo admitted honestly.

"That stack of orc shit," Dís snorted.

.

Thorin was still having trouble dealing with this Summer. Between his siblings going about talking up hobbits in one way or another, it made him stress enough to worry he would start going white. Just last year Dwalin had lost his mohawk. Sure, the tattoos looked best now that you could see the full half-circle, but Thorin was not ready to lose his hair.

Not to mention that odd Bilbo fellow. He did not look as bad as Thorin had been lead to believe by his nephews, but he had the clear look of someone forced to grow up too fast.

The dwarf had not seen the hobbit in three years, and was surprised to see just how much it had changed the hobbit. His cheekbones were more pronounced, and he wore richer clothes than before to hide his slighter frame in relation to other hobbits. He reminded Thorin of seeing all the hobbits after the Fell Winter, although he still had a healthy stomach on him.

Thorin had decided not to return the year following mostly out of guilt. He had not even thought about the hobbits and if they would need help from the dwarves. They had trouble with their own wargs and orcs, but they could have sent help to the Shire without threatening their own wellbeing.

Yet the hobbits did not seem to hold a grudge against the dwarves at all. They welcomed them warmly and said their crafts were missed last year. That they should fill up on good food and ale before they went back to live at the dreadful base of those looming mountains.

It was so baffling to Thorin that a race would not even think to demand help in saving themselves from starvation he felt even more guilt. To think, that hobbits had starved in the Shire. Thorin had never seen such a fierce love for food, even from Bombur, and it had betrayed them in the end.

"You're thinking too hard," Dís said as she sat down beside him. "Probably putting more responsibilities on your shoulders."

Thorin just frowned, but his blonde sister did not let him go that easily. In retribution for not speaking his mind, Dís snatched his pipe away from him and began puffing at it as she waited.

"I thought the hobbits would be angry at us, for not helping with the Fell Winter," Thorin admitted.

"Thorin, you would have had to march through snow that was double our height. And they had Gandalf and the Rangers come when it got really bad."

Thorin snorted like a unsure pony.

"Just forget and forgive, even if the hobbits do not blame you in the least. You should know that I'm definitely coming back next year."

The dwarf looked up at his smirking sister, and knew when to admit defeat.

.

Bilbo was not unaccustomed to unwanted suitors. It was not unheard of that hobbits were just as good at love and anything that dealt with the heart as they did with plants and drinking. They were a loving race by nature: it had come from growing up with such surrounding beauty.

Bilbo could admit that he was not the worst hobbit to look upon, as he combed his curls after his baths, and made sure his waistcoat buttons shined. He could cook a decent meal, and his garden was prized for more than his tomatoes.

Yet sometimes the hobbit was tired of everyone clinging to him so. Lads and lasses: they all came over for tea uninvited and tried to edge closer to Bilbo's heart in the process.

The hobbit did not know if it was out of consideration for him being alone now, or a desperate grab for his home and riches. Either way, it made Bilbo distrustful of everyone around him, and an outsider in how he had never had carelessly loves.

But those hobbits were polite and knew how to step away. This blonde dwarf did not seem to know how, or that it was even an option.

Frerin would come sweeping up behind Bilbo without a sound, only to pick up Bilbo by his waist and make him squeal in a start like a piglet. Or the dwarf would pull his curls to watch them spring back. Sometimes Frerin was even forward enough to grab Bilbo's hand and kiss his knuckles in jest.

It was another day of Bilbo going down to the market to meet Ori and Balin for lunch, when Frerin popped out from a gaggle of hobbit lasses to walk with Bilbo. Oh, how the hobbit hated how handsome Frerin was so he would not feel guilty about ruining it with a sure kick.

Yet this time Bilbo jumped as Thorin, who had been sitting and smoking silently by the forge's entrance, came and grabbed his younger brother by the collar on his tunic.

"I'm not bothering the locals _that_ much, am I Bilbo?" Frerin asked.

Bilbo gave a thankful smile to Thorin, who just nodded, before the hobbit sprinted off.

.

Thorin noted that while a couple years ago Bilbo had not bothered getting out of his home, he was at the market place nearly every mid-day. Thorin knew this because he took his break just about the time when the hobbit would meander on by.

Usually he was intercepted by his blonde brother, and as entertaining as it was to watch Frerin get repeatedly slighted, it was clearly exhausting and embarrassing for the hobbit. And Thorin could admit that when he got the odd pastry leftover from Fíli and Kíli it was a treat indeed. It would not do good to scare away the one hobbit the company had managed to relatively befriend.

Today Bilbo deployed a new tactic to get around Frerin, and it involved skulking between stalls and consistently looking around for danger. To Thorin the hobbit looked like he was getting ready to steal jewels or some other sort. If the hobbit marketplace was anything like the Blue Mountains, Bilbo would have been pulled aside for suspicious behavior.

Yet Thorin understood the need to get away from his brother, so he turned to look the opposite direction and said mildly: "There's Bilbo, just on time."

Frerin, who had been lounging beside him, snapped to attention and went in the direction Thorin had been absently gazing at. Truly, Thorin did not know why his brother was so adamant about making fun of Bilbo. Maybe it was his own way of trying to include Bilbo in the company.

Thorin looked back to where Bilbo actually was to see the hobbit's gaze was on Frerin. His shoulders visibly dropped in relief, and he straightened his waistcoat before walking up to the forge naturally.

"Have you seen Ori about?" Bilbo asked Thorin with a smile.

"I think he went out to get more charcoal from camp with Dwalin," Thorin answered.

This made the hobbit frown, and his shoulders were slumping in seemingly defeat.

"What do you require?" Thorin asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just a friend to go walking in the woods with."

Thorin stared, and thought that some fresh air outside of that stuffy little forge would do well. That, and getting away from his overbearing siblings and other distant family members. Frerin would undoubtedly come back in a few minutes and complain about not seeing the hobbit for a good hour.

"I'll escort you," Thorin said as he stood up and tried to dust off all the grime he had already required for the day.

Bilbo seemed to stiffen at the statement, and the dwarf wondered if he had been rude by essentially inviting himself. Yet the hobbit only stared blankly for a moment more before giving a nod and turning for Thorin to follow.

.

Bilbo had always gone to the market expecting the sure company of either Ori, Fíli or Kíli. He was nearest to age and mind with the three, and that was the main reason why he was closer to them than the other dwarves. Truthfully Bilbo did not ask the ages of any of the others in fear of learning just how many more seasons they had on the little hobbit.

Bilbo had assumed that the other older dwarves mostly tolerated him for his friendships with the younger members. Yet Balin was kind and always enjoyed swapping stories; Glóin and Bofur were always up for catching a drink at the Green Dragon; Dori was eager to talk about tea while Nori sighed and asked if they could talk about home brewing stronger drinks. Bilbo enjoyed most sitting quietly with Bifur as the dwarf whittling and he wrote. Compared to the loudness of the other dwarves, it was a welcome relief.

Naturally Bilbo was a little uneasy about talking with their leader, and his siblings. There was something about the three that put them above the other dwarves, and Bilbo wondered if they had stricter social tiers than hobbits. Sure, some like Bilbo had more money and better land, but there was not much social elitism despite how snobbish the hobbits were here.

So Bilbo was shocked when Thorin offered to accompany him on that walk. It had been more than a tad awkward, and the silences between them were long and tense. Bilbo could not tell who was the main culprit for the stiff atmosphere around them, but it was still an overall nice experience.

The next day Bilbo saw Thorin outside the forge and decided to sit and chat before going to find his nephews. Only for Fíli to pop his head out of the forge, and to holler for Kíli to get down from the roof and come join them for lunch. It had been a loud affair, but the other dwarf had fit right into their lunch date.

Bilbo found himself giving a greeting and a few words in passing to Thorin each time he visited. If Bilbo had not seen just how many items he, Dwalin and Fíli produced, Bilbo would almost think the dwarf slacking. Or sometimes, like today, they would sit and watch the market go on before them.

"Your mind is lost in the ground," Thorin stated.

That odd phrase made Bilbo erupt into giggles before explaining: "We say lost in the clouds. But I suppose you dwarves need to make everything relative to the earth."

"We're just like you hobbits in your eagerness to dig things up from the ground. You just like potatoes and carrots, while we favor diamonds and rubies," Thorin answered back.

"That makes my race sound so simple," Bilbo said, feeling his nose crinkle in dislike.

"Not at all," Thorin said gently, "I think that if more people put home and good cheer before cold metals and jewels, the world would be a merrier place."

Bilbo glanced to the dwarf, who seemed to have lost his own head in the ground as he gazed out at the market. He was probably remembering times long past, and the hobbit was again reminded of how weathered Thorin was.

.

"Don't you feel bad for that little hobbit, living in that big house all by himself up on the hill?" Dís asked over the crackling of the fire.

Thorin looked up from sharpening his sword to follow her gaze. He saw that there were few lights left on in Hobbiton, and the one on the hill was one of them. He had often see it being the last one go out, but had never connected it to where Bilbo lived.

"We should invite ourselves over!" Frerin declared.

"You should let me do all the talking," Dís ordered stiffly.

His siblings went to their tents a little bit after, but Thorin stayed out to do the informal first watch. It was obvious that there was no true danger in the Shire, but it was a habit of living on the road that was a hard one to leave behind.

His gaze once again went up to the hill, and he stared at it until the candlelight was blown out. Now Hobbiton was encased only in the light from the moon and stars.

In the odd friendship he had struck up with the gentle hobbit, Thorin had never seen any painful loneliness. Yet maybe that was because whenever he came down it was to meet friends. He had never really seen Bilbo at his home, and he had not even known where he lived until Dís' comment.

Thorin had never made it a point to make nice with the locals. They gave them pots and pans to repair, and commissions for gardening tools and silverware to be made. Never weapons besides the odd ax to chop wood with, and that made Thorin immediately confused about this place.

Yet Bilbo brought a real side to the Shire. His kindness showed Thorin that the hobbits were not simple or stupid, but just bigger in heart than mind most times. Yes, that made them susceptible to hardships like the Fell Winter, but Thorin wondered what it would be like to live such a carefree life.

One without a past of a crumbling family and ancestral home.

Thorin shook his head and stood, telling himself that it was late and he needed to go to sleep. If he did not, he was sure Bilbo would point out in passing the darkness around his eyes and the frizziness in his hair. The hobbit had very sharp eyes, and Thorin was always tired of being criticized by the tiny creature.

.

Ori was more than just a tad nervous about getting invited to dinner over at Bilbo's house. He was actually very accustomed to the smial, especially after that Summer where he had to go visit Bilbo every afternoon. But never did Ori have the rest of their company tagging along, especially with Thorin's siblings this year.

"You look pale," Dwalin said next to him.

Ori would have expected the thoughtful phrase from Dori, and not the past warrior, so he gaped for a moment as his boots before looking up at Dwalin openly.

"Just a tad nervous," Ori admitted honestly with what he hoped looked like a convincing smile.

"I'll try not to eat all the cookies," Dwalin announced.

This had Ori laughing lightly before shaking his head, and glancing over his shoulder to everyone trailing behind them. Fíli and Kíli had of course sprinted ahead, but Ori had been given the task of leading them up to Bilbo's round front door. It would be silly, if Thorin did not have such a bad sense of direction once outside of mountains. If they let him go alone he would probably miss dinner altogether from getting lost.

"I just hope no one breaks anything. Or eats all of Bilbo's food, although I'm sure the latter will come true regardless. We do have Bombur with us," Ori stated.

When they all arrived at Bilbo's door, Ori gave a gentle knock. They only had to wait a minute before Bilbo came rushing to open the door. He was wearing an apron that was oddly enough free of stains, although there were smear of flour on the soft yellow fabric.

"Come in, come in! But please leave your shoes at the door. Kíli has already managed to track in mud everywhere," the hobbit muttered.

Ori smiled, thinking that this domesticity matched Bilbo very well. Except the hobbit turned practically livid when he turned to see Fíli and Kíli with a pie in each of their hands.

It was actually Thorin who strutted forward and took the pies from his whining nephews, and then placed them back in Bilbo's hands. The hobbit gave him a relieved smile before darting into the kitchen, and Ori did not miss how Thorin's eyes trailed after him.

"Oh my," Ori gasped.

"I know!" Bofur exclaimed as he approached, causing Ori to jump and turn to the other dwarf. "These white snowflakes made out of cloth are entirely too bizarre!"

"I bet if you hung that on the wall I could hit a knife through any of those holes," Nori challenged.

"You're on!" Bofur exclaimed before the two scampered away.

Ori sighed and thought again: yes, tonight would be a difficult one.

.

Bilbo hummed as he drained the chopped potatoes in his sink for the mashed potatoes. Even as he darted back to the stove to put on a new dish on the open burner, his tone did not alter or waver.

Belladonna had been a master of singing effortlessly even when she was making a dinner for twenty. Bilbo was making one for sixteen, and he was only humming, but the hobbit thought it was a good start to keep up one of her many legacies.

Bilbo had never cooked for so many guests, and he was honestly feeling nervous more than anything. But he had planned his dishes days in advance, and the bread and deserts had all been done this morning. Which left the afternoon and night to do the other dishes.

When Dís had suggested they all get together for a night of good food and fun, Bilbo had immediately offered his home for the occasion. It would do good to get all the dwarves together in one place, as he had seen how busy they got in their own crafts. Bilbo barely saw some of them, and he was sure it was similar between the dwarves.

Yes, it would do very good to have them all over. Except, well, for when they came over and Bilbo realized just how bad their manners were.

He sat at one head of the table while he ordered Frerin to take the other. Dís chuckled at the demand before stealing the seat right of Bilbo. Thorin immediately took the one on the left, and then everyone else scrambled to get a seat and begin filling their plates.

Bilbo had wanted to make a toast to good friendship and food, but the dwarves were too far gone throwing food in their mouths (and each other's at times) to bother looking at a slack-jawed hobbit.

Still, they were oddly considerate as they cleaned up the dishes, even if they gave Bilbo a heart attack in the process. Yet the way they sang along while doing it, improvising lyrics so effortlessly, made Bilbo homesick for his Mum. Still, it was a bittersweet emotion and he had always loved how musical the dwarves were.

And it did not stop there, as once everyone had settled about the fire, they brought out their instruments they had left outside. Bilbo's head had nearly floated away in shock at seeing Thorin with a harp: because it was gold and so delicate and pretty in comparison to the burly dwarf. Yet when he started plucking the strings with everyone else joining along, Bilbo desperately wished he knew an instrument to join in as well.

Yet the hobbit was more than content to sit back and smoke, closing his eyes to getting lost in the music.

.

When Gandalf was not let in after his second knock, he tried the knob to see that it was open. Smiling at the trusting nature of hobbits, he ducked into the smial and smiled at the welcome smell of food.

Yet his little smile went away when he heard voices too deep to be hobbits muttering somewhere about the den. Keeping his staff gripped in one hand, Gandalf ventured closer.

"He passed right out!"

"He's just asleep."

"Still out like the sun."

"Is that drool?"

"Frerin, don't _poke_ him!"

The wizard peered in, and his curiosity only grew at seeing fifteen dwarves crowding over a chair. He could only suppose it was Bilbo, as it was the hobbit's home.

Gandalf cleared his throat pointedly, but only half the dwarves turned to give him attention. They jumped, and then pulled at the clothing of the others to get them to look up.

"Gandalf!" a blonde one said, and Gandalf narrowed his eyes to realize it was the only woman about. And a familiar one at that.

"Why Princess Dís, how your beard has grown long!"

"Thank you," she answered kindly. "Although I'm not a princess anymore."

"Doesn't stop you from acting like one," another blonde one said, and Gandalf recognized it as the youngest of Thráin's children.

"Gandalf!"

The high voice made everyone turn to Bilbo, who was standing up with eyes glimmering before sprinting over to the wizard. Despite his short stature, Gandalf was nearly tipped over by the little hobbit latching onto him in a vicious hug.

"Yes, my boy, I've come a little earlier this year," Gandalf said with a great booming laugh.

The wizard looked away from Bilbo's flushed face to see the dwarves all staring and shuffling on their feet. Everyone seemed either struck with awe or curiosity, although Thorin looked a little thunderous with his frown. Silly really, as Gandalf had always enjoyed that prince among many others for his straight forwardness and honesty.

"There might be some food leftover, and then let's go about getting you a bed. A place to sleep for everyone truly, if you want to stay here inside instead of the fields for the night."

"The ponies and donkeys should be alright where they are. They never wander much," Oin said.

Fíli and Kíli cheered before running down the nearest hallway, and Gandalf wondered just when this smial had stopped being empty for all for one hobbit.

.

"Why do I have to take them back?" Thorin asked irritably.

Dís gave him a flat look before handing over the pie trays into Thorin's hands and walking away. Frerin, like usual, was chuckling at his older brother's situation as he walked away with her.

Thorin had thought it mighty thoughtful for Bilbo to give them extra meat pies in the morning to take back for dinner. The pies had been delicious warmed over the fire, what with the delicate beef and gravy inside. Even the vegetables were not that bad with all the intermingling flavors.

Grumbling, Thorin adjusted his grip on the clinking trays before looking back up the hill. He could wait until this afternoon when Bilbo stopped by, but he had some time before he needed to get to the forge.

An hour later, Thorin was sure that his siblings had set him up to this to torture him over his inability to find direction. He had gotten lost twice already, and would have given up altogether if he had not finally come across a familiar path. Hobbiton was so convoluted when it should be the most simplistic place in Middle Earth.

When he knocked, not even the wizard answered. Sighing, Thorin wondered if maybe he should just leave it in the front. He was already late to the forge as it was. But then Thorin thought that might be odd, or Bilbo might not see them and accidentally break a toe kicking them to send breaking on his stone pathway.

Thorin eyed the side gate for a moment before deciding that if he had been invited into Bilbo's home once, it was not so bad to go in the back uninvited. The hobbit was probably in his garden this early in the morning anyway, so really Thorin was just being thoughtful in finding him out.

The gate did not creak when he opened it and tucked against the side of the hill to get to the garden. There were large plants and trees that went over Thorin's head (and was that a blackberry bush?), but still there was no little hobbit.

At least until Thorin's eyes landed on a patch of poppies with Bilbo in the middle. It was an odd picture, as the hobbit seemed like a barrier to separate the yellow and red poppies from mixing.

The dwarf suddenly understood what those patches of flowers meant when the saw the stone heads above the blooms and hobbit. Yet Bilbo had a smile on his face lying between the graves, and his toes wiggled in the sun. His cheeks were slightly red, and he looked like one of those woodland nymphs from legend from how his golden and at peace he looked in a bed of colorful flowers.

Thorin realized he was intruding on something very private in a start that nearly had him dropping the glass items to shatter the moment. He quietly crept back to the side gate, and hopped over it in fear that this time it would squeak.

The clean dishes were left on the front bench, and Thorin trotted back down the hill to work.

.

Bilbo watched beside Gandalf as the dwarves looked anything but chaotic as they finished their final touches to their carts and ponies. It was so baffling to watch how sufficient they could be in their wildness.

The hobbit held a large straw basket in his hands nervously, and his eyes darted to Thorin before looking away shyly.

"What's that, Bilbo?" Frerin asked from behind him, his chin leaning down to sit on Bilbo's shoulder.

"Yes, indeed," Dís asked as she walked away from Thorin and their cart to stand next to her personal-space-testing brother.

"It's smells really good!" Kíli said as he trotted up with his brother, their ponies patiently waiting a few feet away. Bilbo realized in a start that they were the same height, and wondered if Kíli would soon overtake Fíli.

"Some things for the road," Bilbo finally spoke, fingers twitching at the rough texture of the dried straw. "I went picking some blackberries with Ori the other day, and though to bake them into scones."

" _Ori_!" Fíli and Kíli snapped together as the scribe smartly ducked out of view behind the Ri cart.

"Are dwarves not allowed to pick berries?" Bilbo asked up to Gandalf, feeling small.

"They're just jealous," Thorin said with a snort as he came about to stand with his others siblings as well, completing the set nicely.

"Like Thorin might be if we eat all these without sharing," Dís said as she peeked underneath the cloth draped over the scones to keep them warm. "Did you know blackberries are his favorite?"

Bilbo smiled, thinking that maybe if his Mum and Thorin had a change to have tea time together they might have gotten along just swell. Or it would have been explosive with their strong personalities clashing.

"They were my Mum's as well," Bilbo voiced.

That mad Dís stop smirking at Thorin so openly, and she turned to Bilbo with a sad frown. The hobbit made a point of not brining up either of his parents, and he realized this was the first time mentioning his Mum since her passing.

"We didn't know our Mother very well," she voiced, even with Thorin glaring at her so obviously. "She died when we were very young. In a way I'm envious that you had so much time with your mother, even if it hurt to part from her."

Bilbo swallowed hard, and nodded. Both Ori and now these siblings: it seemed that the dwarves had led hard lives to come to where they were now.

Gandalf put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and squeezed in support.

A few minutes later everyone was loaded up and heading out. Thorin's cart was the last to go, and Bilbo smiled weakly as Frerin blew a kiss in goodbye from his own pony. How the blonde was such a contrast to his other two siblings Bilbo would never know. At least it made sense for where Kíli and Fíli had gotten their bravado. Speaking of the brothers, they were already stampeding away on their ponies with expletives said loudly when they nearly crashed into the other.

Bilbo crept up and handed the basket to Thorin, as Dís was patiently holding the reigns.

"May your journey be swift and safe," Bilbo said in parting.

Thorin gave a nod that felt more like a bow before he was off. Bilbo watched the line of ponies, donkeys and carts go until they could not be seen anymore. Then he turned to Gandalf and said they needed to hurry if they were to make Elevenses.

.

The next couple years passed by easily. Bilbo did not even realize it was his coming-of-age birthday until the Gamgees next door exclaimed they just had to order the cider and ale in advance now else they would not get the best kind. And Bilbo deserved nothing but the best apparently.

When he mentioned it to Ori, Fíli and Kíli over lunch one day, they looked absolutely appalled before exclaiming in a rush how sorry they were.

"Whatever for?" Bilbo asked in shock, nearly giggling at their earnest faces and how big Kíli's eyes had gotten.

"We never got you presents!" Fíli exclaimed. "I mean, you even sent us the odd gift every now and then through Ko, but we only gave you little things in return. Nothing big, especially when we've been here for your birthdays all this time!"

"Actually we give presents on our birthdays here," Bilbo said with a laugh. "So you've done nothing wrong. It's me whose often been too busy to give you actual gifts instead of trinkets."

"I just thought you were being nice with the quills," Ori stated, frown still on his freckled face.

"And the found feathers for my arrows," Kíli cheered.

"Everyone back home is quite jealous over the embroidering you did to my tunics," Fíli boasted proudly.

"Well, this year it's going to be a true celebration under the Party Tree, and you must attend. Everyone in the company of course, as I have all your presents ready!"

Bilbo watched as Fíli and Kíli immediately lit up at the idea of a party and gifts at the same time. Even Ori now looked cheered up, braids swinging a tad as his face stretched in a smile.

"What do we need to do, then?" Kíli asked.

"Nothing, just show up," Bilbo answered.

"Truly?" Fíli asked with a frown. "I don't know if everyone would be happy to just come and go without giving back."

"All the hobbits are all too happy to," Bilbo said with a laugh. "You dwarves need to know how to accept a gift without feeling the need to give back! Really, I don't know what to do with all the buttons Thorin has made me!"

"Buttons?" Ori asked.

"In thanks for the treats I send you off with," Bilbo said, trying to will down a blush that had no point in coming up. Thorin was only being polite after all.

"Well, he really _does_ enjoy blackberries," Fíli said with a wicked grin that Kíli also had on his stubbled face.

.

Thorin followed everyone out of the camp, and hoped that his deep blue tunic was nice enough. It was too hot for anything else, even though Fíli and Ori had made such a show of impeccably braiding their facial hair while Kíli just moped.

"What's this all about again?" Thorin grumbled, shying away when Dís tried to fix his hair. It was no wonder why Fíli was so obsessive about having so many braids himself.

"Like I told you this morning when you obviously weren't listening: we're going to Bilbo's birthday."

That nearly had Thorin stopping in his steps, because of course the hobbit had a birthday. Still, it was always so odd when something that was so inherit in his culture was found in others. Although they usually did not celebrate them with a party involving the whole town. Yet Thorin's wonderings why this birthday was so special was answered by his nephew momentarily.

"It's his coming of age year apparently!" Kíli said in a cheer. "I still can't believe I'm the youngest. Having over thirty years on the hobbit should account for something."

"Kíli, you will never mature," Frerin informed gravely. "You'll follow after your better uncle in more than just devilishly good lucks and a wicked use of shooting your arrows straight and strong. It's all about aim and consistency, dear nephew."

"How you manage to make everything suggestive in a way Bofur can only dream about is beyond me," Thorin grumbled.

Truthfully the dwarf needed all the possible distractions at the moment before he let his sudden unease show. Because was Bilbo truly only an adult now? Thorin had thought the hobbit quite fetching these past couple Summers. As much as he thought the hobbits grew up too fast, it seemed in this situation the dwarf had been the one jumping ahead.

But a part of Thorin argued that Bilbo had become an adult years ago, when he had to deal with the deaths of his parents. Thorin himself had to grow up much too fast with the demands of a kingdom, and then having to lead his people to a new place to peacefully live.

.

A hobbit birthday began with some speeches from family (that had Bilbo blushing at the praises and quips to his odd habits to wander and gaze off at the horizon without reason), and then quickly turned to dancing. Lots of dancing, and eating and drinking, sometimes done at the same time.

There was also a massive cake with strawberries that reminded Thorin of the wedding they had attended all those years ago. The dwarves had attended a few other festivals at Bilbo's youthful insistence and Ori's desire to investigate, and Thorin realized slowly they were also eerily similar to this party.

Well, it was not like anyone was having a bad time. It seemed the hobbits would understand the dwarven phrase of 'If it's not broken, don't feel the need to fix it.'

Thorin watched in amusement as Dís danced with Fíli, while Kíli danced about wildly with a whole throng of fauntlings around him.

Balin and Dori were sweeping along the dance floor, content smiles on their faces. Even Nori and Bofur were dancing, although the toymaker was a little lost for what to do when Nori grabbed his hat and began spinning him about by it.

"Why, it's like nearly two decades haven't passed at all! You're still sitting there by yourself."

Thorin looked up at the cheerful voice, and watched as Bilbo gave a cheeky grin, tilting his head to study the dark-haired dwarf. It jostled the overflowing flower crown atop his curls, and Thorin was thrown back to when he had been graced with one from the hobbit.

What had those blue flowers been called again? He had seen some patches grown about different hobbit dwellings, so it was clearly not a rare plant.

His thoughts were turned away from flower names when Bilbo offered his hand, dimples showing in his cheeks as his grin widened.

"For tradition's sake," Thorin agreed lowly as he stood up.

Bilbo's smile turned wide, and Thorin felt himself clear his throat and straighten his fur surcoat before taking Bilbo's hand and following after the hobbit.

.

"We dare you to a drinking challenge!"

Ori looked up from his sketchbook and sighed as he saw wicked grins on Fíli and Kíli. Even with their good looks Ori knew better than to so easily let those smirks get to him.

"Why?" the scribe asked dryly.

"Bilbo and Uncle Brooding are dancing, Mother is busy pulling Frerin away by idiotically getting married to some hobbit harpie, and the ale here is especially good!" Kíli babbled.

"And my brother said he could easily outdrink you," Fíli informed cooly.

That had Ori shutting his book and standing up straight. True, Kíli was taller than him by a good amount, and he had much more muscle than the slight Ori, but there was only so much teasing Ori could take before snapping back. And when a dwarf's tolerance was threatened, it was impossible to turn away. Even the gentle souled Ori could only take so much.

The brothers went straight to the barrels, and Ori noted in glee that Dwalin was sitting by himself at a nearby bench. He took the opportunity to sit beside the older dwarf as Fíli and Kíli went about getting trays of tankards.

"I'm sitting here, enjoying watching how much hobbits can drink without getting drunk, when I look out and see Bilbo and Thorin dancing. And the oaf is honestly _smiling_ ," Dwalin said with a snort in greeting.

"I would say Thorin's not grimacing more than smiling, but he indeed looks oddly happy," Ori commented back.

Dwalin grunted, and Ori found himself confused by the older dwarf's brash reaction. Plucking one of the many flowers decorating the table, Ori tucked it behind Dwalin's torn ear. Maybe that would have him cheering up.

This had the dwarf jolting away from watching his friend and hobbit to finally turn and level Ori with furrowed eyebrows. But there was not a deep frown to match it, so Ori deemed that Dwalin was simply confused about his innocent gift.

"I was just baffled, not depressed, lad," Dwalin said.

"Oh," Ori said smartly, before feeling the beginnings of a flush coming on. "Excuse me then, Master Dwalin."

Ori retreated to Fíli and Kíli and started their drinking competition by finishing an entire tankard in just three gulps.

.

Bilbo danced with quite a few people, and learned that the dwarves had spent their Summers here well learning even their most advanced dances. Well, all but Thorin who still bumbled about mostly. Bilbo blamed him for having such bulky boots tipped with metal.

When Bilbo realized the constellations that first appeared at night were long gone, meaning dawn would be in a few hours, he rushed all his guests away.

The dwarves were oddly enough the last ones about, and Bilbo felt bad for having to spur them back to their sleeping pads and blankets. So of course he invited them over, and together fifteen drunk dwarves and one tipsy hobbit stumbled up the hill to his house.

Thorin had oddly diverted off the path without warning to fall over a fence, which of course had Dís and Frerin falling over each other themselves in their laughter that was definitely waking everyone up. Thorin did not even offer a reason for the sudden diversion, although Bilbo saw him tuck something in his pocket.

Everyone bustled about into rooms, and Bilbo was just pulling out extra blankets when he turned around and Thorin was suddenly directly in front of him.

Bilbo's gaze went from blue eyes to blue flowers, and the hobbit sucked in a breath. That must have been what Thorin had taken a tumble for.

"I saw others do it, so... here. It's a small gift, but allow me this," Thorin said.

Bilbo nodded, and let Thorin tuck the sprig of forget-me-nots into his crown. He thought to voice that no one had given such meaningful flowers to him, but it could be forgiven for Thorin being a dwarf. Why, anyone else would be see it as a straight proposal with a declaration of love.

"These are for you and your nephews, as you were the slowest ones and didn't get a room," Bilbo said apologetically. "But the rug before the fire is thick, and you'll be the first to get breakfast then."

Bilbo absolutely did not jump when Thorin's rough hands grazed against his to take the blankets and pillows.

The hobbit said a rushed farewell to the dwarf, and one to Fíli and Kíli (who did not offer anything back as they were already out; it reminded Bilbo maybe to challenge Ori to a drinking contest in morbid curiosity). Bilbo quickly ducked into his room, and smiled while he changed clothes at the thought of how all the rooms were once again filled with friends.

Bilbo remembered to put aside his flower crown on his dresser, and stared at the spot of light blue in a sea of warm colored flowers. It stuck out so horribly, and Bilbo with his controlling ways should think it ugly.

Instead it made the hobbit go to sleep with a smile on his face.

.

Thorin stared down at the positively giant jar of blackberry jam Bilbo had just given him. It was heavy, and he had nearly dropped it in shock from the weight when it had been handed over.

The dwarf initially thought he could not accept this, but when he looked around everyone else had their own jars. Only about half the size as Thorin's, but they still had their own personal parting gift.

"I found this hidden, massive patch some miles out of Hobbiton no one bothers to go so far out for," Bilbo said proudly. "So I borrowed Ori's pony to haul it all back."

"You shouldn't go so far without someone there to protect you," Thorin said with a frown. "Or at least to help you pick everything. Are your feet alright?"

Bilbo rolled his eyes, and said: "I was _fine_ , Thorin. Me and my feet, which are, I shall tell you again, rougher than you all think. I thought you would be glad to get your own jar and not have to fight off your family."

Thorin looked down at the jar, and indeed felt his chest expand in sudden happiness. He could already see how he could ration it to last the entire Winter. While he always thought toast or oatmeal was boring, this jam would make the dishes actually enjoyable. Thorin thought that it probably even had the ability to make cram pleasant, but he knew the sugary treat would be wasted on it.

"I'll have to make you something other than acorn buttons in return," Thorin muttered. "But I can't think of anything else."

"Well, you can send a letter opener maybe," Bilbo said with a bashful smile on his face. "And maybe a letter from you so I can use it?"

Thorin did not know whether to think the request more sly or adorable.

 

 


	3. Part III

 

 

Gandalf stared at the raven proudly sitting at Bilbo's mailbox. It was clearly not an ordinary raven, and one of those from the dwarven royalty. The ones that knew two languages and lived as long as the owners. He had always tried to befriend the birds, but they were snobbish in how they only listened to dwarves no matter what.

When the wizard reached for the bird, it squawked and snapped at him. For being such a smart bird, it was being incredibly stupid for annoying Gandalf the Grey. And people thought the great eagles were the outlandish ones.

"Oh! It's Thorin's!" Bilbo cheered as he put away his pipe and went up to the bird. "Please, come here gorgeous!"

This time it gracefully hopped to the hobbit's shoulder, and nipped at his curls playfully. The hobbit giggled before taking the letter. He went back inside with the raven and Gandalf followed in interest. It was clear that the raven was as comfortable with the hobbit as it was untrusting with the wizard.

Bilbo first went to the kitchen and gave some sausages to the raven who eagerly ate the meat. The hobbit then started making breakfast absently, and the raven liked the bacon even more than the sausages. Still it sat on his shoulder patiently, never crying for meat and only squawking in happiness whenever it got a new morsel.

"What does Thorin write?" Gandalf asked around a mouthful of eggs and toast.

"Mostly that their journey was fine and they've settled back in their house. Fíli and Kíli already ate all their jam and tried to get his."

Gandalf saw the tender smile on Bilbo's face, and thought that maybe he would not have to come around as often. Not that there was much danger in Middle Earth as days past, but it was a little taxing to have to come spend a few weeks at the Shire every year. Not that Gandalf would ever break his promise to his favorite Bella.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go write my reply now," Bilbo said with a smile.

The raven ruffled its feathers proudly for a moment at that, and Bilbo gave it a warm chuckle and stroked its head before walking away to his desk.

.

Thorin stared at his hair in misery. While he had seen his first white hair a few years ago, the streaks were now impossible to ignore. The dwarf wondered just how Fíli and Kíli managed to stress him out more than ever when Kíli would soon be an adult. But then Thorin had grown up with Frerin.

Dís said the silver made Thorin look striking and wise, but Thorin was more concerned about how it made him look as old as he felt. He remembered just how quickly Balin had turned completely white, an how Dwalin had lost his mohawk.

The dwarf was distracted by a clipped tapping on his window, and he turned from the mirror to see his raven Toräck was back. He allowed the raven to hop up on his forearm and unravel the letter.

"I agree with your sister about your hair," the raven chirped happily in its guttural language as it picked at Thorin's curls.

"I hope you didn't pick at Bilbo's hair," Thorin grumbled, even though he could not get annoyed by his raven. Toräck had been with him nearly his entire life, and had often risked his life to scout ahead for Thorin and his people.

The raven was oddly silent, so Thorin turned away from the letter to shoot the bird a glare.

"The halfling liked it," Toräck argued mulishly.

"How would you know? Did you ask him?"

"He gave me sausages, and then bacon," Toräck said, chest puffing out and causing his black feathers to shine prettily in the morning sun. "He clearly likes me better than Ko."

"Well, he's more accustomed to Ko. She's always flying between the Shire."

Toräck snapped his beak sharply, and Thorin thought it all more than a tad funny. It was not like Ko was not his cousin, and instead a bird threatening his entire reputation.

"Just hurry up and write a response then," Toräck said with a cackle. "Bilbo only took a couple hours while you take a couple weeks."

"I'm not versed well in writing like the hobbit," Thorin mumbled.

"That and decent manners," Toräck said with another snap of his sharp beak.

.

Ori opened his letter from Bilbo in glee, totally forgetting about taking off his shoes when he entered Fíli and Kíli's house. Like before he had by luck seen Ko fly by, and so had decided to follow her to get his letter right away. He wished he could get a raven, but Dori was the one whose father had been somehow linked to the Durin line. So Nori and Ori had no claim at all to get a raven.

But there were many noble dwarves, like Dwalin, who did not have a raven. And Kíli did not have his own, favoring instead to share with Fíli. Ori was always surprised at how well the brothers got along with each other when they were menaces to everyone else around them.

Ori let his eyes trail along the lines, and smiled when he heard about the normal flow of Bilbo's life. He had just transferred more seedlings for his fall harvest to the garden, and said he was trying some new orange 'sweet' potatoes. (The concept made Ori a little worrisome, as Bilbo had such a bad habit of eating so much green food.)

Yet a few paragraphs in, the subject dragged on about a new letter opener that Bilbo had been given by Thorin. The hobbit explained how he used it to open all his letters now, which created the another reason for excitement at getting mail.

It was crafted to be like a small sword, and he had accidentally cut himself on the edge when the hobbit had tested its sharpness. This made Bilbo name it Sting, as the cut had been annoying with the sting it brought when he did the dishes or washed his hair.

As much as Ori enjoyed letters from Bilbo, it was a tad boring that he talked mostly of Thorin's raven and a letter opener for nearly half a page. He wondered if Fíli and Kíli had a similar story in their letter, but thought that Bilbo was smart enough to not gush over their uncle to them.

Ori waved goodbye and declined Dís' offer for some breakfast to walk back to his house in a slight trot. He had been too busy leaving the house he had forgotten his trademark gray shawl. When he got back to the house, Ori was offered breakfast a second time.

"In a bit, Dori. I have to write a letter to Bilbo first."

"Tell him to try and save me some of that chamomile teas those merchants bring before the market closes. I'll be sure to pay him back when we see him next year," his brother called from the kitchen.

"Alright!" Ori called in return before sprinting up the stairs.

.

Thorin trotted into the Shire on his own pony, as Kíli and Fíli were both at the cart's head. While before that had been fine, Thorin had begun to feel bad for their draft horse having to haul their cart and three dwarves.

"Home away from home, eh?" Dís said from beside him on her own pony.

Thorin decided to let the knowing tone in her voice go and simply nodded. He was hoping for a relatively peaceful Summer, as Frerin had decided to stay behind in the Blue Mountains. Thorin had not even asked for the reason why, and had just accepted it with a nod (and an internal grin).

The market quickly came into view, and Thorin glanced around at the bustling hobbits who greeted their caravan with warm greetings and smiles. They unloaded the wooden skeletons for their stalls, and the canvases that stretched over the frames, before they were back on the carts and spurring the donkies on one last time.

Everyone seemed to give a breath of relief when they got to the familiar grassy field. Everyone went about setting up their tents where they had been for many years. As odd as it was that they put their stakes exactly where they were last year, Thorin knew just how dedicated to routine dwarves were.

As tired as everyone was, they rushed to go to the market. After weeks being on the road they were excited for baked delicacies and warm food prepared right.

"Think Bilbo baked up a good amount of treats yet?" Thorin heard Kíli attempt to mutter secretly to his brother.

"What's this?" Dís asked in interest.

Being so blatantly caught, Fíli gave a sharp elbow to Kíli's ribs (that had the young dwarf keening) before turning back to his mother and stating honestly: "Bilbo bakes all day when we come. He... always tells us to invite everyone else, but we just say each time you're all too busy."

"Ori!" Dori snapped, and at least Ori had the shame to look caught red-handed.

"I really like his almond cookies," Ori argued weakly.

"It's decided then," Glóin said with a heavy nod. "It's about time we go give our hobbit a visit and raid his pantry."

A cheer went up, and Thorin sighed in realization that they would not be setting up shop to start offering their services today.

"Yes, we know it's not blackberry season yet so what's the point, but maybe he still has a leftover jar from last year?" Dwalin asked.

Thorin shot his old friend a nasty glare, yet Dwalin only proved how much of an ass he was by laughing and pulling Thorin along.

.

Bilbo tried to control his staring, but it was absolutely impossible.

Now, Bilbo as a very respectable hobbit. Even if people muttered about how he did not have sweethearts by the dozen like other hobbits his age, and even if he had a bad habit of wandering outside the Shire borders on his strolls, Bilbo had a good reputation.

He polished his acorn buttons till they shined in the dimmest lighting, and he kept his shirts white and soft. The curls on his feet were always combed and free of mud, just like when he was younger. He always made sure to watch the sun so his skin did not become bright red like a cranberry.

Yet Bilbo was sure the most respectable hobbit could not stop but look. Because it was not everyday that such an attractive dwarf was working with his shirt off.

Usually the forge's doors were closed, either to prevent fauntlings from wandering in or just to keep the heat in, Bilbo was unsure. But he did know it was an especially sticky day today, so he thought that the heat would be near unbearable with the forges.

As Thorin brought his hammer back down on the bright orange rod of metal, Bilbo thought his heart would speed up so much it might explode. Not that staring at a half-naked dwarf would be the worst way to go.

Because, sweet Yavanna, what a sight Thorin made.

His long hair that was usually down was braided behind him, curling down to end at the middle of his broad back. Bilbo noted again that Thorin had more white than last year, and thought the contrast brought a new spark to the dwarf's features.

Another clang made the hobbit jump, and grab at his chest in shock for staring so openly and completely forgetting himself. While yes, it was not everyday Bilbo got to see shining muscles lit by a fire's gleam, it was still a tad rude. It was just so memorizing to watch them stretch and change at various angles.

Yes, their great Aulë who had fashioned his dwarves out of stone had made them fine creatures indeed.

.

These weekly meetings for dinner at Bilbo's place were a special treat. At first Ori had been unsure about it, and worried about how much they were eating away Bilbo's money. Because while dwarves had a healthy appetite for drink, it was only second to their fervor for food. With both loves taking an obvious place behind shiny things that caught their eye.

But that was quickly remedied by everyone simply buying something to drop off to Bilbo the day before. Usually they were cuts of meat, but Ori always made sure to bring potatoes. Fíli and Kíli were set about bringing apples and berries for dessert, while Balin thoughtfully brought flour and seeds for bread. Bifur was the best in how he just bought massive jars of honey.

Bilbo had finally given up trying to wrangle some sort of order when the dwarves ate. Yet they were always sure to clean up after themselves, with a new set of lyrics that made Bilbo laugh.

Tonight's dinner had been going like usual, yet it was interrupted curtly by a clipped sound at the window. Everyone turned to stare at the raven that Ori did not immediately recognize.

"What is Frerin doing using his raven?" Dís asked in shock. "I'm surprised it actually managed to get here, as the idiot barely uses it."

Ori did note that the raven was a little heavier than other ones he had seen. Its feathers also seemed ruffled, like it had a rough journey.

Thorin was the one who finally stood up and went to the raven, giving it a piece of cut ham as an offering for the letter. Everyone went back to their conversations mostly to allow Thorin at least the pretense of privacy.

"Dís," Thorin said curtly, cutting through the lull of voices.

While the beautiful dwarf would usually stomp on her brother's harsh tone, she seemed to understand something was truly off. She stood up without a word and went to stand as his side.

"May we borrow your garden, Bilbo?" Thorin asked politely.

"Of course, please," the hobbit said in a daze, clearly as confused as the rest of the company about the interruption and Thorin's tense shoulders.

Everyone waited exactly ten seconds after the siblings had gone before bursting into conversation. Ori decided to stay silent, and stared down at his mashed potatoes with a frown.

"Something's wrong," he muttered softly.

Dwalin huffed in agreement next to him.

.

Bilbo did not know what was written in that letter, but he had never seen Thorin's face close-off so fast at whatever he had read in the letter.

As much as the dwarf had become accustomed to the Shire, there were still times when Thorin became distant. When a hobbit would come up and pick at his tunic without asking for permission; when the lasses cooed about just how he got his curls to play so nicely. Or whenever the dwarves decided to go swimming in the river to every hobbit's horror. It was distressing to see him revert to his past indifference.

They were well past dessert, and everyone was tuning their instruments before the fire, when Thorin and Dís came back. Thorin did not offer any words as he went and sat down in the chair that had been left open for him. He also did not reach for his harp, and instead took out his pipe to begin furiously packing it.

"What's this all about, Mom?" Fíli asked, breaking the silence and everyone's wonderings of who was going to be brave (or stupid) enough to ask.

Dís sighed, and shot a glance over to a still-standoffish Thorin, before stating: "It's about Erebor."

Bilbo perked at that, as he had seen that word on some maps of Middle Earth. But it was nothing to the collective gasp that the dwarves gave around the room. It sounded like all the air had been sucked out of the room to be immediately replaced with tension.

"What's happened?" Kíli asked impatiently.

Dís frowned, and Bilbo suddenly realized he was intruding on something mighty personal with the dwarves.

"If you don't all mind, I think I'm going to go outside for a bit and catch some fresh air. It's much too stuffy with all you here. But please, feel free to stay as long as you need," the hobbit said as he stood and straightened his waistcoat nervously.

Before anyone could say anything, Bilbo darted out down the hallway to his garden. While he wanted nothing more than to stay and hear what they were talking about, Bilbo could easily tell this was nothing for a stranger to listen and wonder over.

.

Bilbo had just started puffing on his pipe in the dying light of a long day when the door creaked open. He turned, expecting to see maybe Ori, but started when he saw it was a grave-faced Thorin.

"May I join you?" he asked in a deep rumble.

The hobbit stared for a moment more before nodding his head enthusiastically. Thorin sat beside him on the porch, the wooden planks creaking but not breaking at the added weight. Bilbo noted he had brought his pipe with him, and the two of them sat and smoked for a bit in silence.

"Have you ever heard about the Lonely Mountain?" Thorin asked, voice deep and steady as it broke the silence between them.

"I thought you called it Erebor?" Bilbo said with a frown.

Thorin was silent and exhaled with a cloud before saying: "It's the same, but the name I said came after it fell. After the dragon attacked."

At hearing just the mention of such a creature, Bilbo nearly chocked on his smoke.

"We were the richest kingdom in all of Middle Earth," Thorin said without prompt. "Dale below us was the focal point for trade for miles around. But that sort of wealth attracted more than just respect, and Smaug was lured out to us one day."

Bilbo held his breath and turned to see Thorin looking at his hands. His blue eyes were dark with pain of the past, and the hobbit reached forward to rest his free hand on his bare forearm. Thorin seemed to jump at the contact, but Bilbo stubbornly did not let go.

"Our King, my Grandfather, was too blind in his greed to let the kingdom go. He ordered us to attack Smaug, and while we did defeat him, it was at terrible costs. It was only through the dragon's own irrationality of breaking down so much infrastructure in anger, especially around the treasury, that the mountain's structure became unsound."

Bilbo's grip on his arm tightened, as he dully realized that Fíli and Kíli did not call Thorin a royal out of joking, but to a fragment of the past.

"My Grandfather refused to leave, unwilling to abandon the gold and Arkenstone. So now Erebor is a broken tomb for him, many of my people, and Smaug."

Thorin was silent then, and Bilbo wondered if he should say anything in return. Finally, after Thorin looked back up at Bilbo, the hobbit managed to speak.

"If your home is gone, what is Frerin writing about?"

"A desperate mission to see if all must be lost. If we cannot recover the gold, or the items of our ancestry."

"That sounds like quite an adventure," Bilbo said breathlessly.

.

Thorin looked away from Bilbo and down to his little hand that was still clinging desperately to the coils of muscle on his forearm. His nails were beginning to dig into the dwarf's skin, but it was a welcome Dístraction.

"Frerin has been planning, and wrote to get supplies from here to bring back for next Spring. I know he'll be stubborn enough to go by himself if he needs to."

"You're going to go back," Bilbo said softly.

Thorin swallowed, and wondered if the heavy feeling in his stomach was worry or nerves.

"I'm sure we will still find nothing more than a tomb. I have already lost so much there, and then at Moria, I am almost... afraid to go back."

Thorin had no idea why he was telling all of this to a little hobbit. Maybe it was because Bilbo knew the bone-deep grief that came with losing loved ones. Maybe one day Thorin would tell Bilbo about Moria, and how he had lost his father to a massive white killer before felling the orc himself. Fíli and Kíli had also lost their father that day, and Thorin could still remember the screams of Dís' pain at learning of Vili's death.

Thráin had saved Frerin, but it had abandoned all the responsibilities to had been supported and loved, but he felt alone. Alone, and shamed that they had lost many lives again a desperate attempt to reclaim another of their homes. It had made Thorin admit they needed to start somewhere new.

"You need to go back," Bilbo stated. "I was at a complete loss after losing my parents, and I hated having to see their graves every day."

Thorin watched as the hobbit's gaze moved from his face across the lawn to the two patches of yellow and red flowers. They were closed even with the bright light of a moon nearly full.

"But everyday I went to see them, and soon it did not feel like a weight I had to carry."

The hobbit turned back to Thorin then, and said with a small smile: "You need to do the same. You need to see this mountain to lose it off your shoulders."

Thorin stared at Bilbo, and sighed when he realized it had been the right decision to come out here and consult him. Thinking to follow through with another gut feeling, Thorin leaned forward enough to knock his forehead gently against Bilbo's.

The hobbit gasped, before giggling, and it was in that moment where Thorin realized he was in love.

.

Bilbo watched as everyone got onto ponies two weeks before they would usually leave. They had barrels of grains and preservatives that would last through the Winter before they set off on their adventure in Spring. Other hobbits were milling about, confused why the dwarves were leaving early.

The hobbit sighed, thinking that he had nothing with blackberries to offer Thorin. He had given them apple turnovers and blueberry muffins, but it still made the hobbit disappointed. He would not be seeing Thorin for three years and he could not even give him a unique parting gift to help him along. Sure, some jam would not be the line between success and failure, but Bilbo thought the dwarf would need all the support he could get in this journey.

Bilbo jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned away from watching Ori blushing next to Dwalin to see Thorin looking down at him. The hobbit had thought as a kid the intimidation factor of Thorin's height would diminish, but still the dwarf towered over him.

The hobbit did not know what to say, but Thorin did not seem to be looking for words as he pulled Bilbo into a tight hug. Bilbo felt warm and safe, like when he hid under the covers from Winter's chills.

The hug was intense, but it lasted much too short for Bilbo's liking. Thorin pulled back and stared at him dully, brow furrowed in obvious worry.

"We'll return in three year's time, if everything goes as planned."

Bilbo smiled weakly, knowing that nothing, especially a journey this big, would go as planned. They would probably loose their supplies at least twice, and nearly die half a dozen times.

The hobbit watched them ride away that late morning, and Bilbo found himself thinking about one dwarf or another each day afterwards.

He got letters from Ori, or Fíli and Kíli, detailing how the planning was going. He only got a select few from Thorin, and Bilbo appreciated that the dwarf took time out of his busy schedule to write to him. Still, Bilbo was always a tad sad to see Toräck go without knowing when he would see the proud raven again.

It was in one of those letters that Thorin mentioned the day they would be setting off, and Bilbo marked it neatly on his calender after converting their differing months. As the days were counted down and the dwarves' departure grew ever closer, Bilbo became increasingly sad.

.

Bilbo wished he could come on their journey, but what did he have to offer? He would just be a hinderance, even if he wanted to see the world beyond the Shire so very badly. He had been meaning to ask Ori if he could come visit the Blue Mountains, and it seemed that would have to wait for some time more.

Thankfully Gandalf came visiting two days after the dwarves supposedly set off, and Bilbo explained the situation to him. The wizard stood and puffed up, black shadows coming from his sole one to make Bilbo's smial seem like something from another world. Clearly Gandalf was affronted the dwarves had not though to bring him along. Bilbo was honestly happy to hear soon Thorin and everyone would get a wizard to add to their numbers.

"Why don't you follow me at least to Rivendell then," Gandalf said thoughtfully after he had calmed down enough to sit back down and enjoy his wine. "Show off that elvish of yours? You'll have a tale or two to tell the dwarves when they get back then."

The hobbit only took a moment to think it over before cheering: "When do we leave?"

"We should have left this morning!" Gandalf declared before bustling out of Bilbo's round door to get them a pony and horse.

The hobbit himself rushed to get a pack ready. He decided to have a mix of his old gardening clothes to travel in, and then his best waistcoat for when he arrived to live with the elves.

Bilbo smiled as he ran a finger-pad over the acorn engraved in one of his brass buttons. By how worn the design was, Bilbo could tell it was one of the first buttons Thorin had made him.

He was just getting together what food to take with him, and what to give to the Gamgees else it go bad, when Gandalf came back in uninvited with a dangerous twinkle in his eyes.

"Come now, let's get on our way!"

.

Ori could only come to one conclusion about the journey so far: it was boring.

All they did was ride, and then ended the day by sleeping on mats that were so thin they might as well be sleeping on the ground. That and there was a depressing lack of good food, even with Bombur as their creative cook.

Ori would not have minded it as much if he could read while riding without getting queasy, or if riding was not so rough that the dwarf could not draw while in transit.

Inevitably Ori thought to the Shire, where they would be arriving at in a month if this was a normal year for them. He would go exploring with Bilbo, and purposefully throw over-ripe berries at Fíli's head in a rude attempt to dye the dwarf's blonde hair.

"Missing home?"

Ori turned to the deep voice to find Dwalin riding aside of him, his bisected eyebrow raising in further question to the younger dwarf.

"In a way," Ori sighed dramatically. "I miss Bilbo, and being able to draw and write with him. I was just beginning to teach him how to knit before this crazy adventure came up and I was roped along."

"You volunteered," Dwalin said with a rough chuckle.

"I surely did not volunteer to have my ass hurting this much," Ori snapped back.

There was something muttered low behind Ori, followed by a loud yelp and thud. Ori frowned before turning around and saw that Bofur was on the ground, with Nori riding on and having obviously been the one to kick him off. Knowing Bofur, he had probably made a dirty joke that Nori had not appreciated his younger brother being a part of. Ori was almost worried for the dwarf, but Bofur just shook off the dust before hopping right back on and catching up.

The young dwarf cleared his throat and straightened his back before looking back at Dwalin, who was similar to Nori in his clear annoyance at Bofur. Maybe the older dwarf had better hearing than him and had heard the comment.

"Well, if you really need something to do, I can help you out with that. What with you only being armed with a small slingshot and knife, I'll teach you how to use an actual weapon."

"You'll teach me how to wield your war hammer?" Ori asked in a blink.

Again, Bofur was kicked off by his pony as Nori growled.

"I couldn't help it!" Ori this time heard Bofur say through his laughs.

Nori caught up the few feet to give a glare at Dwalin and Ori both before saying: "Ori, I love you like a fool, but think before you speak."

.

When Thorin finally got to the mountain (and their biggest problems were a pissy wizard and prissy elf king), the company and him found that the mountain had fallen even more apart. While they thought some internal structure would have held, it was obvious the entire entrance hall had fallen in from the inside.

"It'll take years to excavate," Bofur said as he kicked at the wall of rubble. "Actually, it'll take  _lifetimes_. This is delicate business."

"I learned in Dale some men went to try and find some gold," Nori spoke up. "But they were never heard of again. The humans said they heard some rumblings and screaming before the mountainside crumbled. Thankfully none of it made it down to the town."

It was nearly embarrassing, to see their home above any other crumble so easily. But Smaug had broken so much of the internal structure when they had battled him. Thorin also remembered how some of the catapults had hit the pillars and walls instead of the dragon in their haste to kill the snake.

Most days Thorin wondered what would have happened if they had just ran. If they had let Smaug sleep in the gold without foolishly trying to kill him right away. Maybe if they had waited the dragon would have gotten old and fat.

"Maybe it's for the best," Thorin finally spoke with a nod. "I wish Fíli and Kíli, and Ori too, that you could have seen the magnificence of the halls. But it's pointless if it's not what it was before. Yet there are other things just as beautiful and kinder in this world."

Everyone was oddly quiet, and Thorin could admit his words had been heavy, but not that in need of a long moment of silence. When the dwarf turned away from gazing at the wall of broken stone, he saw Frerin's cheeks puffed out and red from repressing giggles. Everyone else seemed mildly embarassed.

"What?!" Thorin snapped. Maybe it had been unlucky instead to bring Frerin than to have a number at thirteen.

"You're besotted!" his brother babbled. "How else would it explain how you, the heir to all that gold – the  _Arkenstone_ , brother – just turning away from it. Like there's truly nothing to find underneath all that rock!"

"No one is stupid enough to risk excavating and stealing it from us," Thorin said with a frown. "Well, other than the orcs and goblins, but they deserve to be crushed. Maybe some of our race will come along and remake our home, but we aren't strong enough for that yet. It's not our destiny."

It was as if Thorin's big declarations were all being ignored today, as Kíli cheered: "He's not goldsick, he's  _love_ sick!"

.

Bilbo thought Rivendell was absolutely amazing, yet he still missed the Shire. If the hobbit was being honest with himself, he dearly missed his friends just as much, if not more.

There was nothing besides objects waiting at his smial, which was probably why he had stayed so long here. He knew he would soon have to leave before Fall started, but he would wait as long as he could. Because what was the point of Summer if there were not the dwarves to make his hot days full and loud?

Bilbo enjoyed most the libraries, and took many days reading. Sometimes he forgot time like a true elf and missed meals until his stomach loudly protested. Other days he spent simply walking around the grounds, letting his big toes dip into the clear waters.

Elrond was the epitome of a good guest. He often dined with Bilbo, and if he did not, his twin sons were always about. While they were as different as they could be to Fíli and Kíli, they still reminded the hobbit of the dwarven brothers. Elladan and Elrohir reminded the Bilbo of his friends for their reckless attitudes and bad habit of challenging the other.

Apparently they were to escort him back, and Bilbo looked forward to seeing how they would act once out of Rivendell. They were stubborn about teaching him archery, and the hobbit had only agreed just to see Kíli's face when he hit a bullseye in a fake 'first attempt' at learning the bow.

Yes, that would not be a tale, but a good trick to take back.

"I will be sad to see you go, Bilbo Baggins," Elrond said over dinner that night.

Bilbo looked up from his salad in a start. While he got along well with the elf lord, that was a large statement to make without prompt.

"I will miss this place as well," Bilbo answered back.

"But your heart is not here, so you will go on without trouble," Elrond said with a slight smile. "I look forward to seeing these dwarves when they come back on their return journey. Gandalf promised he would bring them this way. Tell me, why don't you stay here until they arrive?"

Bilbo chuckled at that, thinking his elvish would be impeccable after three years with them. Oh, Ori would be so jealous at Bilbo pulling so far ahead in their private studies.

"While that is a great offer indeed, I miss my home."

Elrond gave a hum and nod at that before turning back to his food and leaving the subject alone.

.

Ori was so very happy to be back in the Shire after being gone for over three years on the road.

They had barely made it to the Blue Mountains before Winter set in, and there they stayed before heading out at their scheduled time like before. Ori had pushed for an earlier time to leave, but everyone still had things to deal with before being away again.

Why, the massive spiders Ori had found in his room must have been a distant relative to the ones in Mirkwood. Still, his supplies were still good, so he set about writing a letter right away to Bilbo. Ori did not give lots of details, and he had sent a letter along with Gandalf at Rivendell when they parted, but the dwarf just wanted to assure the hobbit they had all (miraculously) made it home alive.

While they had all gotten back relatively whole, there were still many hiccups along the way. The biggest being Kíli falling entirely in love with an elf maiden, enough so that Ori was sure the dwarf would argue to get his own raven now.

Their caravan arrived two weeks later than their usual date, but they were only met with excited cheers and welcomes. It seemed the hobbits had dearly missed their crafts and skills in their time away. Ori was sure they would be hearing of their heroics from Bofur for weeks to come.

Ori was about to go sprinting up the hill when oddly enough Dwalin caught his collar and pulled him back. Ori frowned at him, but Dwalin only gestured with with a nod to look before him. The scribe finally took the time to see that Thorin was already winding his way up closer to Bag End. At least he was, until he took the wrong turn.

"But it's going to take at  _least_  an hour for Thorin to get there. Can't I just sneak around and say a quick hello to Bilbo before slipping out again?" Ori whined.

"No. You know as well as I how they need to see each other first. We can work with Grasper and Keeper in the meantime."

Ori groaned, as while it was great to spend time with Dwalin, the demanding weapons practice always made his arms feel like they were on the verge of falling off.

.

Bilbo was cursing violently at the stubbornness of his beets when he heard a distant call of his name. It was not the voice of Gandalf, as he had gone away some weeks ago, and it was too deep to be of a hobbit.

The hobbit perked up and dusted the dirt from his pants before trotting up to the side gate. He opened it in a rush and went to his front door, where Thorin was frowning at his cheery green door.

"Thorin!" Bilbo called in a start, a little chagrinned by how high his voice sounded.

Not that the dwarf minded, as he turned to Bilbo with a slight smile on his face. Immediately Bilbo recognized that he had more crows feet fanning out from under his eyes, and the silver in his hair had increased even more. Yet the hobbit did not take much time staring before he ran forward laughing.

Thorin brought him into another warm hug, and it felt longer than just years that Bilbo had felt the dwarf's warmth.

"You should have sent a letter!" Bilbo said breathlessly when Thorin finally let him go. "I would have baked myself silly or something equally useless!"

Thorin just continued smiling gently down at him, and Bilbo felt himself flush not from the sun. He opened his door and rushed in the dwarf before going to make them tea. When Thorin came back from taking off his boots, Bilbo gave him a cup and a large plate of scones.

"I have something for you," Thorin said, and Bilbo realized in a start it was the first thing the dwarf had said to him.

Bilbo smiled and sat down in the chair next to Thorin, holding out his hands palm-up and closing his yes indulgently. After a moment he felt something light drop into his hands.

When Bilbo looked down to see what it was, he giggled at seeing the acorn.

"I though it better than a button," Thorin said with a smile. "It's from a tree belonging a skin-changer, and the oaks in his yard were taller and stronger than any others I've ever seen. You would have liked his gardens. A poor prize indeed for such a long journey, but I thought it fitting for you."

Bilbo risked a glance back up at Thorin, and saw what he thought was worry making the dwarf's thick eyebrows knot.

"It's perfect, Thorin," Bilbo said earnestly.

This had Thorin sighing and lowering his shoulders in relief.

.

Thorin was glad his siblings were not around, as the dwarf was tearing himself apart quite enough over how cowardly he was with his affections for Bilbo. It had been painful, but so conveniently easy, to run away on the adventure and leave his stolen heart in the good hands of the hobbit.

The dwarf was confident enough to admit that he had missed Bilbo on their long journey, but he was not lovesick as his nephews tended to sing so eloquently. That was Kíli, when he sighed like a child dreaming each time he got a letter from Tauriel.

"Ready to go?"

Thorin looked up from his useless hands, which could not fix this situation, up to Bilbo who had spoken. He was wearing a golden waistcoat today, and he gripped his walking stick with a sure grip. His toes wiggled in the dirt road as his face broke into a smile.

"I was the one waiting," Thorin said as he stood, stretching out his back from sitting so slouched in his deep thoughts.

Bilbo's smile widened before he set off, and Thorin followed him between the throngs of hobbits. They continued walking in silence as they left the market (Thorin flipped off Dwalin who was smirking and sitting with a laughing Ori) and made for the rolling hills. As much as the dwarf was worried he would get uselessly lost, Bilbo was as good as navigating here as Thorin had been under his mountain.

Without the clatter of others around them, Bilbo routinely asked how Thorin's morning had been. Thorin asked in return after giving his boring answer, and enjoyed listening to Bilbo's description of how his tomatoes were coming over his own boring accounts of making shovels.

"Is it really alright that you're taking so much time each day for me?"

Thorin turned away from staring at a passing sparrow to see Bilbo had stopped and was looking at him with worry.

"Fíli needs to learn how to use the forge without me crowding him, and Dwalin's there if anything should arise," Thorin said with a shrug.

"Good to hear!" Bilbo chirped.

Thorin stiffened as Bilbo raised a hand to pat his taller shoulder for a long moment before setting off again.

In the month that Thorin had returned, these slight touches between them had become custom. When Thorin was sure they were alone, he would touch his forehead to Bilbo's. The hobbit always gave a quizzical look to him after, but never asked about it. The hobbit in turn would grasp Thorin's arm, or hands sometimes, in passing.

With Bilbo turned away, Thorin threw his head back dramatically and gave a silent prayer up to Aulë and Yvanna. He wondered if it had been as hard with their differences to become such close lovers.

Thorin usually did not relate himself and Bilbo to their respective creators, but there was just something so otherworldly about being uselessly in love.

.

Ori eyed around the hallway, making sure to remain hidden. After batting away some of his bangs hanging in his gaze impatiently, his eyes narrowed as he watched Bilbo and Thorin sitting by the fire.

Thorin was playing his harp alone while Bilbo seemed entirely entranced by the soft music. The hobbit was leaning so forward in his chair he was threatening to topple over, and probably end up directly tangled in Thorin's harp and lap. It was almost embarrassing to see just how plain their affections were, but how unwilling they were to act on them.

Ori could empathize with the fear, but they were making him feel annoyed at just how long they were taking. And even if Bilbo was still in his forties, it was not like either of them were getting any younger and rasher to just get their feelings out!

"Alright, that's enough," Dwalin said suddenly behind Ori.

The scribe had just enough time to squeak before Dwalin swung Ori over his shoulder and turned down the hallway to their room. Everyone else was tucked in and asleep, as if they were bored with the 'Thorin & Bilbo show, featuring the very popular guest Love.'

"Think they'll work through their problems?" Ori asked over Dwalin's shoulder.

"We did," Dwalin offered helpfully.

Ori huffed at that before saying: "You think yourself such a brute, but you're smarter about these things than Thorin. And the biggest problem we had was how Dori could easily throw you back to Erebor if my brother felt so inclined."

The scribe yelped in shock as he was dropped on the bed without warning, but his body did not even have a chance to settle with a few bounces as a body framed his.

"Can we stop talking about our best friends now?" Dwalin asked in a rumble.

Ori giggled before leaning up for a kiss.

.

Bilbo stared at Ori, and tried to figure out just what was different about the dwarf. It came after a few moments more, when Bilbo's eyes focused on his hair.

"You have a new braid!" the hobbit exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, well, remember my letters about Dwalin?"

"Really?" Bilbo asked in glee. "You worked everything out? I suppose that quest was good for more than just one thing!"

The dwarf nodded proudly before pointing to the braid and declaring: "Yesterday Dori finally agreed, and we began our official courtship. This is the first step: a courting braid declaring to all that I'm not available."

Bilbo pulled at his own curls pathetically, thinking his locks were not long enough even for a simple braid.

"If you grow your hair out, your's will be as long as mine by next summer," Ori said absently. "Odd how your hair grows faster even though you cut it every few months."

Bilbo glared at Ori before snapping: "It's not nice to tease."

"I would say the same to you by the way you dance around Thorin."

The hobbit groaned before saying: "Ori, it's not that simple!"

"Yes it is!" Ori said, leaning over the table and nearly getting his shawl stuck in raspberry jam. "You think it was easy for Dwalin and I? I thought he would only see me as a child forever. I thought my brothers would never welcome him, as he arrested Nori so many times and threatened Dori's claim as being the strongest dwarf."

"Ori," Bilbo said patiently. "I'm just a simple hobbit. Thorin is a king in his own way. And we are good friends at least. I am more than content with that."

"Bilbo, see  _reason_!" Ori snapped impatiently. "Thorin barely gives time to look at other people, but he puts aside time each day to see you. He laughs and actually smiles with you. Yes, you think no one else notices, but a scribe needs to have sharp eyes! And the way you seem to glow is almost unnerving!"

This had the hobbit deflating, and he asked out quietly: "Is it that obvious?"

"Nori has had a betting pool going for years now. You should see just how high the stakes have become," Ori informed.

"My goodness," Bilbo said in a sigh. "What has this all become? Remember when we just ran about getting our trousers dirty and trying to catch fish barehanded?"

"We grew up, Bilbo," Ori said gently as he reached over the table to grab the hobbit's hand in his. "And love's not so bad once you actually start being a part of it, instead of it hovering over your every action rudely."

.

Bilbo was so accustomed to going on his excursions alone that initially it had been odd to have Thorin tag along again. But that quickly went away, and Bilbo knew he would miss the dwarf in yet another way when they had to pack up and leave till the next year. Their departure date was actually coming up in barely ten days, and Bilbo pushed that thought aside so it did not ruin their nice stroll.

Today they were taking a long hike to the large patch of blackberries Bilbo found years ago. The hobbit hoped desperately this would not be the year when others besides the birds found out about the hidden gem. Every year he was selfishly afraid someone was going to find the patch and pick them all before Bilbo could do exactly that.

The only threats were hobbits and animals, but the former did not venture this far out. As for the later, usually larger forest animals like deer stayed away from the numerous thorns so they did not get cut or caught.

Of course Thorin did just that when he tried to help Bilbo, as the dwarf did not have the ability to slip into small, tight places like Bilbo. The dwarf only got cuts all about by his stubbornness. Finally the hobbit took pity on the dwarf (and the plants that were getting throttled) and told Thorin to just wait while Bilbo collected the berries. In the cover of the bushes Bilbo took moments to watch Thorin swear and pull out thorns from his clothes and skin. It was hilarious and humbling to see the dwarf that forged bare chested get bested by a simply plant.

The walk back seemed to lift Thorin's mood, but maybe that was because the dwarf was eating berries by the handful at times. Bilbo would chide him over his childish behavior, and how he was staining his fingers, but it was hilarious to see the so-serious dwarf let himself go for a bit.

Soon enough the day was done and the berries were washed and segmented for what they would be made into. Bilbo would have a busy day in the kitchen tomorrow and looked forward to it.

Thorin was standing just outside Bilbo's round door, and the hobbit realized sadly that he did not want him to leave. But it was late, the sun long set, and they already had an indulgent smoke and talk by the fire.

"Goodnight, Bilbo," Thorin said, pressing his forehead to his.

The hobbit leaned forward in familiarity to the action, but when Thorin pulled back Bilbo asked the question he never had before: "What does that mean?"

.

Bilbo's tone seemed uncertain, but not afraid.

"Just that I... care about you," Thorin said, and the hedge was obvious even to his ears.

The hobbit hummed, and the dwarf gave out an internal sigh of relief at seeing he had taken that as a viable answer. It left Thorin completely defenseless for Bilbo to lean forward and press his lips to Thorin's.

Thorin had seen this done between other races, and while it was not an entirely foreign concept to dwarves, it was not as meaningful as bringing foreheads together. Still, Thorin thought the gentle pressure of Bilbo's soft lips against his was a welcome action.

Yet the hobbit stepped back and away far too soon, and Thorin watched as his hazel eyes fluttered open. A blush started to fan out over his tanned cheeks, and Thorin tried to school his expression into something less intense.

"That means I hold you dear as well," Bilbo finally spoke with a smile. "But more than just a friend."

For a first kiss between them, it was gentle, innocent and so simple in contrast to what the two had gone through. Thorin knew love in the Shire was different from the serious rules in dwarfish culture. Here it was as simple as a youth finding another attractive, a few dances, weeks of walks and flowers, and then a marriage.

Thorin realized in a start that in a way, he and Bilbo had been doing all of that for some years now.

"Can you do that again?" Thorin asked as he lowered his head so Bilbo did not have to balance on his toes.

The hobbit huffed, as if he thought the request silly and not sweet, before he brought his lips to Thorin's again. This time there was obviously more confidence and energy, and Thorin eagerly reached forward to wrap his arms around Bilbo's waist and pull him flush against him.

Yet this caused the hobbit to break away in a gasp, and Thorin noted with a deep spike of pride that the flush on Bilbo's face was now practically glowing in the moonlight.

"The neighbors will see," Bilbo whispered, squirming but not pushing away Thorin.

"Let them talk. It's what you hobbits do best," Thorin answered.

Bilbo frowned at that, and opened his mouth probably to show just how true Thorin's statement was, but the dwarf cut him off with another searing kiss.

.

The last days of Summer passed by effortlessly in the Shire, and one morning Bilbo woke to realize that while he had gotten over his childish affections for Thorin long ago, he was now entirely in love with the dwarf.

It was such a shocking revelation that was years in the making the hobbit could only lie in bed and stare at his ceiling for a good hour.

It was truly the easiest thing to accept, but it was tricky with the added knowledge that the dwarf would be going away for two seasons tomorrow. Maybe it was the rush of a deadline fast approaching that made Bilbo's heart skip ahead.

Bilbo remembered when he was a child, and had thought those affections had been love. Yet they were nothing but a distant memory to this constant ache in Bilbo's heart at thinking Thorin going away from him. But it was not that like the hobbit would force the dwarf to choose him over his family. No, Bilbo was in love, but he would not become cruel as well.

So the hobbit put on a proud face for the rest of that day he spent baking and making jam for Thorin and everyone to take with them back home. He was making great progress until Thorin had invited himself over and had the bad habit of wrapping his arms around Bilbo's soft waist and distracting him with kisses on his neck and cheeks.

Bilbo was a stubborn hobbit, and he had muffins and pies to bake, but he could only ignore a dwarf clinging onto him for so long. So when he finally turned around to return the affections, Thorin pushed aside items on a counter's surface (successfully cracking at least four eggs on the floor) before lifting Bilbo to sit on it to help with their stark difference in height. Then Thorin fit himself comfortably between Bilbo's knees and kissed him like a drowning man with Bilbo giving him air and salvation.

The hobbit was sure that dwarves did not kiss as much as hobbits, but by the way Thorin dedicated himself to the act did not show that. The rasp of his beard sent chills down Bilbo's spine, and he especially liked it when Thorin bit and sucked on his lower lip.

Finally they pulled apart, and Thorin indulgently pressed his forehead to Bilbo's as they caught their breath.

"The blackberry scones are going to burn," Bilbo said through a pant.

This had Thorin's eyes widening before he moved away in a dash to the over. While Bilbo was sure his fingers were rough enough from being a blacksmith for so many years, he still put on the bright red oven mitt to take the tray out of the oven. Indeed the scones were a touch more brown than golden, but they still looked more than edible.

"My hero," Bilbo said with a giggle and roll of his eyes.

Thorin smiled ruggedly before taking off the mitt and returning to attend to his hobbit.

.

Just like the reliability of the seasons, Gandalf came about to stay for a few weeks of Autumn with Bilbo. While it seemed the lad was becoming more and more used to being alone, Gandalf always enjoyed the visits to his favorite smial.

He knocked lightly, and frowned when it was not answered and opened right away. The wizard could smell the delicious scents of things just baked, and he was sure if he peeked in the kitchen window he would see the counters lined with delicacies.

Throwing aside courtesy, Gandalf opened the door and called out Bilbo's name again. Still he was met with silence, so he walked in without bothering to take his shoes off. He could feel nothing off, and indeed when the wizard passed the kitchen the counters were lined with treats. That and some broken eggs on the floor oddly enough.

Thinking if he was not here, he was probably in the garden, so Gandalf went to the back door. He glanced around the garden, and it only took a moment to find Bilbo. The wizard raised an eyebrow as the hobbit already had a guest with him.

The couple were sitting in the shade of an oak, ignorant to the world around them. Bilbo had his back pressed against the tall trunk, as Thorin had his head in the hobbit's lap. While the dwarf was turned away into Bilbo's stomach, and Gandalf could not see his face, the wizard was sure the dwarf was smiling. Meanwhile Bilbo hummed and lazily carded his hands through Thorin's long hair.

Gandalf took a moment more to watch them, and allowed his smile to stretch over his face. How amazing: for a stubborn dwarf who always shied away from others to find love in a hobbit, and for a skittish hobbit to find the world not outside his smial, but in another.

Gandalf's gaze glanced over to the two patches of poppies, and noted that they had begun to cross pollinate and make orange poppies between them. Oh yes, Gandalf was sure Belladonna was so very happy for her son. Bungo, on the other hand, was probably pulling his hair out for his son falling for someone so different and foreign.

Feeling that everything was truly alright, Gandalf crept back into the smial and took a few pumpkin muffins (he indeed loved Bilbo's addition of the icing to Belladonna's recipe) before going down to see how the other dwarves were doing.

.

Bilbo watched as the dwarves were once again lined up to leave. They were already impatiently snacking on the goods Bilbo had made for them yesterday (no thanks from Thorin, although he did finally clean up the eggs before dinner).

It was odd, to see the new addition of a braid to Thorin's hair. The dwarf had taught him the pattern yesterday, and had said that from the hobbit kissing him, it had been the first clear declaration of intent. So Bilbo had the position of suitor while Thorin was the one who needed to be wooed.

Bilbo thought it silly, but his hair was not long enough for a braid still, so he allowed it.

When Kíli climbed up to grab the reigns for the cart, Bilbo felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion. It had almost always been Thorin leading the cart, and his nephews on their own ponies when they were old enough. Indeed, there was Kíli's pony, but it was empty and tied to Fíli's to follow along.

Bilbo did not have much time to wonder over it when he felt a large hand at his lower back. He jumped at the intimate touch before turning to see Thorin give him a slight smile. For dwarves apparently being secretive in all they did, Thorin was mighty open with their new status.

"Are you riding on Kíli's pony? Another learning exercise I take it?" Bilbo joked, trying to make light of how depressed he was feeling.

Thorin stared and pulled at his courting braid uneasily.

"Actually, I meant to ask you yesterday if I could possibly stay with you. But then... well."

"You two got distracted! Perfectly natural," Bofur called helpfully as he trotted by on his pony.

Thorin sent the dwarf a glare, but Bofur only waggled his eyebrows suggestively before riding ahead to join his brother and cousin at the head of the caravan. Apparently Bifur had won the betting pool, and a good amount of gold and respect had been the prizes.

"Truly?" Bilbo asked, eyes never straying from Thorin's face.

"Anything to get away from my siblings really," he said, and then added in a quieter tone: "That, and Kíli waxing poetry for his elf maiden."

Bilbo stared, and wondered if this was wise. Then Bilbo thought how they were two adults and did not need some intruding chaperone the entire time.

"I would like nothing more," Bilbo said as he reached forward and grabbed Thorin's larger hands in his.

.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Thorin enjoyed Winter. Usually it brought up memories of cold nights on the road, and sickness that ran rampant through his people, but the season in Bilbo's smial was the exact opposite.

There was always good food, and good company to add along with it. Thorin always offered to help cook, and Bilbo would look at him as if offended.

"Thorin, if I'm going to woo you, I need to show you my best qualities. And cooking is definitely one of them!"

Each time the dwarf would just chuckle and roll his eyes. Bilbo always enjoyed bringing up the formalities of their courtship when they were following anything but tradition. Why, it was only appropriate to share a bed and live under the same roof after they were married, but they were doing just that now.

But Thorin had decided long ago that some traditions and pasts were meant to be buried and left behind.

For it being such a cold season, Bilbo seemed oddly energized every morning they woke up. It made Thorin wonder if this was how the hobbit usually was in this season, as if to combat against the memories of ones past.

"No," the hobbit answered slowly as they were hidden under the covers one cold night. "I'm happy now because you're with me. Winter is easy to deal with when you have your own personal furnace."

Thorin saw through the joke though, and felt himself puff up in pride at being able to give such comfort and warmth to his hobbit. Thorin himself always thought it perfect how well Bilbo fit against him.

Winter soon passed into Spring, and while Thorin was not a lover of nature like the hobbits, even he was left breathless by the transformation. The Shire truly was a sight to see with it in full bloom. When Bilbo asked if there was anything he wanted in the garden, Thorin thought and realized that he did.

"Those blue flowers, the ones you gave me when you were but a fauntling," Thorin said, "What're they called?"

Bilbo smiled gently before moving away from the stove to sit in Thorin's lap. He wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck and gave a light kiss to the tip of his nose.

"They're called forget-me-nots. They signify 'true love' and 'remember me forever' when given to another."

Thorin flushed, and then blurted: "You must have thought me a fool at your birthday all those years ago."

Bilbo laughed, and then leaned forward to press his forehead against Thorin's.

"It made me happy, but I dared not to hope too much," the hobbit said between them.

"We must have them now," Thorin declared. "So I can gift them to you knowing exactly what I'm giving away and saying to you."

"I'd like that," the hobbit said before ducking in to steal a kiss.

.

A Summer four years later found Ori straightened his tunic as he stood straight with Dwalin. Sweet sounds from violins played by Fíli and Kíli swelled in the background. The other members of the company waited with their instruments for when Bilbo and Thorin would come down the aisle. Thorin would be lead down by Frerin, while Bilbo would be escorted by Dís.

"It's funny to think that once again we're standing before an altar," Ori mentioned. "Just now we're the best men, and not the ones getting married."

Dwalin looked at him softly before raising a hand to pull gently at Ori's courting braid that had turned into a betrothal one last year.

The ceremony was short and sweet, and Ori nearly lost his composure to laughter when Thorin presented Bilbo with a flower crown he himself had made. Ori could hear Fíli and Kíli could not contain their mirth. Thankfully it was cut short by Tauriel clapping hands over their mouths.

The night was spent drinking and dancing under lit lanterns, and Ori thought the wedding nearly as perfect as his own. Maybe that was why Ori had drunk so much, and was feeling mighty tired even if he knew there was still a couple hours more of a party.

Dwalin just effortlessly picked his husband up and began swaying him about in his arms. Nearby Ori saw Nori point and laugh while Balin just shook his head fondly at his younger brother's antics.

The scribe also noted that Tauriel had noticed the move, and had picked up Kíli to mirror them. It caused Fíli to fall off a bench from laughing so hard. Not that Kíli seemed to mind, and Ori knew just why. It was nice to be cradled safely in the arms of someone you loved.

Ori was just beginning to doze off from Dwalin's gentle dancing and singing when he saw Bilbo and Thorin slip away from the festivities to begin their walk up the hill. Their hands were clasped, sides nearly pressed together as they walked together.

Ori was sure that Thorin would not get lost on his way up to the little round home that belonged to the both of them now anymore.

.

One of Bilbo's favorite parts of each morning was feeding Toräck sausages. The raven gleamed so prettily as he sat in the windowsill, his feathers catching the light and reflecting all sorts of colors.

Even if the raven ate so much lately, it did not seem to gain weight. Probably because it was so busy returning letters between everyone in the Blue Mountains. Toräck had just been away for four days with a letter to Dís, so Bilbo was all too happy to have the bird returned.

"Dís sent back a disturbing letter," Thorin said from the table.

Bilbo turned from Toräck (who huffed at being ignored) to see Thorin was watching him. The dwarf did enjoy when Bilbo stood in the sun and his hair shone like gold.

"Frerin is actually serious about someone? Is he getting married?!"

"No, although I think Kíli is threatening that lately. He may just run away to Mirkwood if we don't agree to host a large wedding here. To think: a wedding between a dwarf and elf in the Shire. It will definitely be the first of its occasion."

"I thought you liked Tauriel," Bilbo said with a huff. "She's even better than Nori with her knives."

"Yes, well, back to the horrid news of another problematic family member of mine?"

"Yes, yes, go on," Bilbo said, impatient with Thorin's dramatics.

"Dís is threatening to move here."

"Oh!" Bilbo said as he clapped his hands together gleefully. "That would be just perfect!"

Thorin's scowl only deepened before he stated: "You must know that everyone else will follow along then. The Shire will be permanently invaded with dwarves."

"Oh, stop being so envious of me spending time with anyone else," Bilbo scoffed.

"It can't be helped. We're known for hording and hiding away what they love and cherish most," Thorin said as he stood and made his way over to Bilbo.

As much as Bilbo was the one who wrote verse and poetry, sometimes the hobbit was caught off guard by Thorin's ability to unabashedly say whatever he wanted without a hint of worry.

Bilbo's smile widened as Thorin presented a cluster of forget-me-nots before tucking it safely behind his hobbit's curved ear.

"I see they call you Oakenshield because you're full of sap," Bilbo grumbled, although he was still smiling wide.

"Only for you," Thorin said.

Of course the moment was broken when Toräck squawked loudly at his breakfast being put off for so long. Yet Thorin just opened the window and waved away his bird crassly.

Then he returned back to Bilbo, and the hobbit laughed before melting into his dwarf's tight hug.

.

FIN

 


End file.
